Six Kings
by Dancerslife
Summary: [Raydor/Flynn] The life of Andy Flynn is altered when the LAPD uses him as a scapegoat and he makes a friend and maybe something more in Internal Affairs.
1. Prologue

This is AU. I do not own the characters or the world in which they live. I own the idea - barely - although it is inspired by the film 'A Few Good Men'.

I want to thank deenikn8 for beta-ing this for me.

I hope you guys enjoy the journey.

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"… _Ten-five-four-xray,_ _"_ _the caller said._ _"_ _We have a ten-five-six._ _"_

There was a pause in the call. Silence. It ticked on for seconds, the silence creating anxiety.

" _Clear the five-six._ _"_ _The caller clarified._ _"_ _We have a ten-seven-one, copy._ _"_

" _Roger,"_ _the responder called back._ _"_ _Ten-seven-one. Command Six King, we have a ten-seven-one with a ten-five-four x-ray._ _"_

It was the call that sounded loud in Andy Flynn's ears nearly three days prior. A body dead on the first floor of a three story home in the Hollywood Hills. Now he sat in a large office, a conference room surrounded by windows, with the life of Los Angeles continuing on however many floors below him. He was being investigated for unethical practice and negating everything he as a police officer stood for. Plain and simple – he was going to be fired.

Someone from the Chief's office had come in twenty minutes ago and offered him a cup of water, something to eat, and he denied the offer. He'd be in that office for another half an hour or so, and at the end of that time he would be badge less, jobless, and free to go get something to eat from the Chinese restaurant down the street. Ten minutes left, he waited and watched as uniforms walked by the large windows, all rubber necking to see what exactly was going to happen to the infamous Andy Flynn. They all had to know what was going to happen. They just wanted to see how it happened, how he would react, if he reacted in a negative light at all.

Just when he was going to stand and stick his head out of the door, it opened. A woman stepped in with a notebook in her hand, a pen weaved in her fingers and a thick book cradled under her arm. Flynn leaned back in his chair to give the woman a once over. Suit, skirt, heels – not a cop. Or a cop in a special division. Or an assistant.

The woman sat quietly. Said nothing. She simply opened her notebook and began to write. Soon after another two officers, dressed in black and white entered the room.

 _This is it_ Andy thought. _I'_ _m getting the boot._

The men stood on either side of the door, as if they were guards. The woman across the table was unfazed and didn't look up from her notebook when the officers' entered. Either she knew they were coming or she didn't hear them enter. Or she just didn't care.

Another man entered, a few minutes later and just when Flynn was getting used to the silence this kid broke it.

"Ma'am," he said, tapping the woman on the shoulder.

It was the only time Flynn had seen the woman stop. From the time that she sat down until now, she hadn't set her pen down. She was looking at case work, writing down notes, flipping pages with determination. It made Flynn curious and interested in why she was there in the first place.

The woman nodded after the man had bent down and whispered something in her ear. The younger man had cocked his head so Flynn couldn't read his lips. Whatever it was, whatever had been said, was enough for the woman to close her notebook, slip the case files into the fold and rise. She left the room without a word and disappeared down the hallway. He took the second to give her a once over as she walked away. He was smirking when the younger man took a seat across from him.

"Flynn," the man said. "Do you know why you're here?"

Flynn wanted to give him a smart assed remark but decided against it. The man didn't look like he wanted to be there. Neither did Andy.

Andy instead gave the man a shrug.

"Figured I'm here to get fired," Andy said. It was honest. "You here to fire me?"

The man shook his head in the negative, which surprised Andy.

"So if you're not here to fire me, why are you here?"

"You are mandated to a three-week suspension," the man rattled off. "After three weeks you are to come back here, to this office, where you will receive an Internal Affairs liaison. They will walk you through the process."

"What process?"

"You are aware Flynn that you, pending investigation, can be fired and held for the crimes committed three days ago?" Flynn nodded. "So you will need to be investigated by the member of internal affairs, and pending their statement of facts there is potential that you will be remanded into police custody."

Andy remained silent. He wasn't under arrest yet, but he figured it would be safe to not say anything. He didn't want things to be held against him because he was being a smart ass. He didn't want another thing added to his file. In the long run he wouldn't be able to afford it.

"I'm here in three weeks?"

The man nodded. Andy nodded and stood.

"What do you want from me?"

"Just sign out with the desk Sergeant on your way out," the man said. "Oh and Flynn."

The man was digging into his pocket and pulled out a small card. He offered it to Flynn.

"If you find yourself up to any more trouble."

Andy shoved the card into his pocket and didn't look at it again until three weeks later.

 _Elliot_.

He was the kid who laid out his future plain and simple.

 _Elliot._

The kid that had sold his soul to Internal Affairs.

Andy Flynn looked up at the building and then at his watch. He had a few minutes until he had his meeting with the I.A. representative.

Signing his name on the dotted line before being buzzed in by the sergeant at the desk, Andy heard someone's dispatch radio go off.

" _Code three,_ _"_ _the called announced._ _"_ _Code three._ _"_

A few officers stood. Andy continued filling out the sheet in front of him. He was filling in his badge number.

" _Be advised. Code three with a two-six-one._ _"_ _The called announced._ _"_ _Standby for location._ _"_

Andy signed his name and gave the sergeant a nod. He was being waved through the turn style and allowed access on the elevator when he should be running out and driving to the location. The case would end up on his desk anyway. If he had a desk.

"Did you hear about the two-six-one?" A cop asked his fellow officer as Andy stepped off the elevator.

Silence filled the halls.

As Andy sunk into his chair in the office that awaited him. He was going to be haunted by the call. His call. The one he was in trouble for.

The Code X-ray.

* * *

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	2. Flynn

_Thank you so much for the favorites, the follows, and the reviews! It really means a lot. Happy Major Crimes Monday!_

* * *

 _Chapter 1 – Flynn_

The _clink_ of the metal bat meeting the hide of the ball had Andy Flynn giving himself a mental point. He was up to thirty-five and had been there, at the batting cages, for just a little over forty-five minutes. Granted, he was supposed to be there with his son, but his ex-wife got wind of his suspension and cancelled dinner. Not that Andy was surprised.

 _Clink_. The ball soared to the back of the cage and hit the net. He watched as it rolled down the dome and caught sight of another ball coming towards him. _Clink._

He was working out his anger. Something his mandated therapist had him considering. He had to work out his anger and instead of shooting suspects, innocent victims, or bashing people's faces in, hitting a ball for an hour a week should help. It was. A little. Not like he could drink anymore.

 _Clink._ Every hit was for the victim's he wasn't able to help the last month. _Clink._ Every hit was for the days he couldn't talk to his kids because they were put to bed early, or weren't home. _Clink._ Every hit was for the idiots at Internal Affairs who had him hand over his badge and gun and wait. _Clink._ Every hit was for the internal Affairs representative that had him waiting for an hour last week before anyone came into tell him they would call him.

A week ago he had gone up to his meeting. A week ago he had wrapped the idea around his head that he was getting fired. Yet, here he was a week later, no badge, no gun, no job, and he was still considered to be an LAPD officer; just on suspension.

The rep had a court case of their own. A personal day had been taken last minute and was non-negotiable. Whatever. Things happen. But – _Clink_ \- it was rude to make him wait. To have him stew. It wasn't professional. _Clink._

The balls had stopped coming and Andy Flynn was turning around, ready to put more money in the machine when he caught sight of the woman watching him. Hair up into a ponytail, jeans, t-shirt; she looked relaxed. She looked _good_. And that smile that played on her lips had Andy smiling back. So in went the couple quarters and for her, for the woman watching him bat, he hit more balls.

 _Clink. Clink. Clink._

Sure he was showing off. Sure he was making himself look good. When a woman who looked that good was watching him, she deserved a show.

The balls stopped coming and he leaned his bat up against the cage, stepping behind the white line and took off his helmet. The woman was approaching him.

"Like what you see?" He asked her.

"I thought we could talk," she said, lifting the t-shirt just enough for him to see her badge.

It caught him by surprise. He blinked at her, at her hip, and then narrowed his eyes.

"You're the IA rep," he stated.

She nodded and he swore under his breath. Of course this was the woman. Wait. He snapped up his head and looked at her again. This woman, the woman from a month ago, the mute woman; she was the IA rep?

Flynn took a deep, frustrated breath and shoved open the cage. He stomped over to the desk, handed over the bat, the helmet, and claimed his I.D. back. He shoved it into his back pocket and turned around to see the woman had followed him. Not closely, but still – she had followed him.

"There's a coffee shop across the street," he said, pointing to the blue roofed building. "I will be in there. If you want to talk, that's where I'll be."

With that Flynn stormed off and caught the green light as he jogged across the street. Blindsided was one thing. There was – someone could have called him to let him know that the rep was going to hunt him down at the cages. But that's not how it works when you're being looked at for a crime. The surprise is supposed to unsettle the suspect. It's supposed to make them run.

It's the light bulb moment that went off in his head as he handed over a five-dollar bill to the woman behind the counter.

Flynn had snapped at the IA Rep and the woman behind the counter because he was unsettled. He gave the rep an ultimatum, follow or leave, and ran – literally – ran across the street. He drew a hand over his face. He was acting like a guilty man.

It was no surprise that the woman had followed him in. It wasn't a surprise either that, in her hands, was a binder, which she balanced her tea on after purchasing it. Their eyes met across the room and she made her way towards him.

She sat across from him and she sat her tea cup off to the side. After opening the binder, took out a small stack of papers and then closed her binder. She presented them to Andy and spread them out for him to look at.

"This," she said, tapping the first page. "Is what we are going to be dealing with for the next however long this investigation takes."

She offered him a pen. His eyes scanned over it. He was to remain suspended for the duration of the investigation. He was not allowed to be part of any of the interviews. He was not allowed to go to work for any reason other than to be interviewed by another member of the investigative party. He is not allowed to talk to anyone involved or potentially involved with the case. At the bottom it required his signature.

With a flourish he signed it. She took it and slipped it into her binder.

"This is a copy of what you are being investigated for."

Excessive use of force. Conduct unbecoming. Improper use of his firearm. Witness intimidation. All resulting with a death of a victim, ballistics report pending.

He could be arrested for the death of the victim if the ballistics match. He could be fired for any of the other charges. He knew that. He understood that. He just had to sign his name at the bottom of the page.

She took that sheet and slipped it in with the other one. She tapped the last page which she moved in front of him.

"This details what happens in the event you are fired and in the event you are not."

In the event that he lost his job, he would be forced to hand over his badge and service weapon. He would be authorized to utilize the department for other job inquiry's. Benefits will be available to him for a duration deemed by the Human Resources department. His pension plan and other things would be dealt with at time of dismissal.

In the event that he was not fired he would be re-instated after mandatory psych-evaluation, requalification, and three months of desk duty. Signatures from various departments would be needed to qualify him for full reinstatement. He would not be paid for his suspension. He would be paid for the limited duty on the days he tested or sat at his desk.

He signed, clicked the pen and handed both the paper and the pen to her.

He expected her to leave. She didn't. She pulled out another piece of paper and clicked the pen, clasping her hands.

"I am not here to railroad you," the woman declared. "I am here to get your side of the story; to see what discrepancies I can find in the case."

"Everything that happened is in that report," Flynn said. "I answered the dispatch call, went to the location, pulled my weapon. I did not shoot at anyone, or anything. The victim was already down."

"Did you clear the call?"

"I called dispatch," Andy nodded. "They cleared the original call."

"Which was?"

"Possible dead female," Andy said. "Possible suicide."

The woman noted it down and looked up again.

"When did the shooting take place?"

That's what the trouble was. He couldn't tell them. He didn't know.

"Before I got there," Andy said. "No shots at the scene while I was there."

"Your weapon was fired," she pointed out. "How did that happen if you didn't shoot it?"

"The idiot," Andy started and then stopped, taking a deep breath. "The house hadn't been cleared and the idiot came at me with – he came at me. I had my gun already out and the guy lunged for it. The safety was off because –"

There was no reason for his safety to be off unless he felt like he was in danger. He couldn't blame it on muscle memory. Well he could, but he doubted it would stand on it's own two feet without a little bit of backup.

"We struggled, a singular shot went off. A gun dropped from his hand and I had mine." Flynn said. "I was told to stay put because of my gun."

"The not-knowing of it going off," Sharon clarified, writing the note down as Andy nodded.

It was a mess. Two guns, one shot, two dead bodies. One a victim, the other a suspect, and no one knows who shot the suspect. No one knows if the dead suspect was the one who shot the victim either. That's where it got murky.

The woman across from him clasped her hands and gave him a narrowed look before widening her eyes again. The man before her had a thick jacket. One she spent the last week with, going over every report, every record, anything that could hurt and help him. The list she made was leaning towards the latter instead of the former.

"Your anger issues deserve a suspension. Your disrespect of authority and distrust in the organization that you take so much pride in – you deserve to be fired for disrespecting it the way that you have."

He gnawed on the inside of his cheek to prevent him from lashing out. The organization that she was talking about had been a pain in the ass. But going into work every day dealing with dead body after dead body, houses that had been robbed – it paid the bills. It paid his child support. She was right when he said he took pride in his badge. He took pride in saying he worked for the LAPD and he would never do anything to jeopardize his career.

"Then why haven't you fired me?" Andy questioned, challenging her.

She gave the man a non-committal shrug. Her job wasn't to fire him. Not yet. Not ever she hoped. Sure his jacket was thick, but he was a good cop. The commendations and rewards that he did get proved that.

"It's not my job," she said. "You're going to need someone on your side in the event this goes south."

"You think it will?"

Another shrug. She was being careful. He appreciated that. It also meant that she knew him and his past, knowing certain job related things could potentially set him off.

He sighed and dropped his head in his hand, rubbing his face. He didn't – he couldn't afford to get fired. He also couldn't afford to sit on his ass all day.

"In the next few days' various members of Internal Affairs are going to get together with Pope and see if they, we, can save your job." She said. "Another group is going to find a way to get you fired. In the end it's up to Pope."

"Might as well just give you my badge now," Flynn remarked with a smirk. "He hates me."

That was something she hadn't heard about. But the differences that Pope and Flynn had were not a secret. If Pope wanted someone fired, he would do it himself. He wouldn't authorize half the IA Department to investigate a single officer on a single case. Not that Flynn needed to know that.

Instead Sharon looked at her notebook and grinned. She shrugged. Again. That shrug was going to bother him. Especially if she stayed around long enough and refused to say anything.

"After that you and I are going to need to meet to talk about what happens next."

Flynn nodded. He figured that much.

"You'll call me or do I call you?" He asked, not intending it to sound so blunt.

She shook her head and stood, gathering her notebook. Her tea had gone cold, half of it gone. He had been drinking his coffee while she did most of the talking.

He followed her out onto the street. Knee jerk reaction had him reaching to his hip when a car came flying down the street, blaring his horn. There was nothing there and he let out a frustrated sigh as he followed her to the corner. He stood next to her, quietly, side by side waiting for the light to turn.

He didn't shy away from her too far. He followed her to the car she stopped at an older car, but apparently still working. She slipped into her car, behind her wheel and reached over, pulling out a singular card from her dashboard. A look had him stepping back, far enough for her to close the door. He thought he was going to be left, ditched, but the car turned over and she rolled down the window.

The card was in between her fingers, presented to him. He took it. He propped and arm on the roof of her car and leaned in.

"Am I getting fired?" he asked her honestly. Taking note of the flash of color in her eyes.

"That's up to you."

With that she put her car into reverse, waved him off, and pulled out of her parking spot. He stood there, with her card in hand, and watched as she merged into the traffic of the street.

He looked down at the card and read it.

Sharon Raydor. Internal Affairs. LAPD.

He read it over a few more times and shook his head. The name registered soon after and he looked back at the card.

Sharon Raydor. _Raydor._

He cursed and shoved the card into his back pocket and made his way to his car. He threw it in reverse and screeched out of the parking lot. He needed a drink. He wasn't going to get one. He wanted to work but he couldn't. So instead he drove up to Griffith Park. While he looked out over the city, he ate the sandwich he stopped to get. His last chance before he got swallowed hole in the mess that was LAPD vs. Flynn.

LAPD: 1 Flynn: 0

* * *

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	3. Facts and Figures

_Thank you all, so much, to those who are reading this story. Thank you all, to those who are following it and reviewing it. It makes me smile that you are enjoying it._

 _Happy Major Crimes Monday!_

* * *

 _Chapter 2_ _\- Facts and Figures_

It had been a month since Andy Flynn had met Sharon Raydor. Well, more like Sharon Raydor had interrupted his time at the batting cages. He hadn't gone back. He didn't have time to really. He had been in meetings with different people for the last month that by the time he went home he just passed out.

Explaining to his ex-wife what had happened wasn't easy. She was taking the kids across the country to visit her parents and he'd see them when they came back. They were going for their summer vacation and they were only three days into it. He had begged to see them before they left – needed to see them – but she wouldn't let up. She blamed it on school. On projects that were due. Play dates with friends.

He had a meeting with his Commanding Officer –the old goat was about to be retired anyway. He didn't like Flynn and made no show of hiding it. The longer Andy sat in his office, the angrier the man got. He would be glad if Flynn got fired, Andy was sure. But as the goat pointed out – Flynn was one of the best people he had. So no, he didn't want him fired.

Raydor had been around for every meeting after that. She hadn't said why, but when he walked into the conference room that he might as well started calling home, she was there. And every day after that she was there.

"So you're saying," Andy started, throwing a look from Sharon to the idiot IA guy who was trying to get him riled up enough to fire him. "I'm going to get fired and sued?"

"You're not –" Sharon began only to be silenced by her counterpart.

The man had shaken his head slightly. Enough to grab her attention and Flynn's.

"The family isn't suing you," she said, changing her tune. "The family is suing the LAPD. You're at the top of the docket because of your involvement."

"My involvement," Flynn laughed. "Which is still in limbo."

The ballistics had come back from the weapons at the scene. The only one's that seemed to match were the ones in the girl in the house. The one in the suspect couldn't be matched to either of their guns. Raydor had the ballistics ran again and they were waiting on that – she couldn't get them bumped up either. She had to wait. Just like it was a normal case.

Due to the unavailability of the ballistics, Flynn was given an extended suspension. No pay. He was going to go on three months without a paycheck and he was starting to feel the weight of that.

"Your involvement should have you on your ass instead of in that chair," the man said.

Sharon remained silent. His eyebrows knitted together at the quietness from her. Andy shook his head and leaned back in his chair.

"What do you expect me to say?" Flynn challenged the other man. "That I'm glad the asshole is dead? He raped three other girls for crying out loud. Raped and killed them!"

The outburst silenced the room. There was only three of them in that large conference room, but nevertheless, he had the room quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"He raped and murdered kids," Andy emphasized. "He came at me with a gun in his pants and made a lunge for mine. Anyone else would get it argued that what happened was in self defense."

"Did you know he had a gun?" the man asked. "At the time of when he charged you, did you know he had a gun?"

"No," Andy said, honestly.

In one of the meetings, Sharon had told him to be honest. Honesty was always the best policy in this kind of situation. He was sure honesty was going to lead elsewhere.

"Then the argument of self defense won't work," the man said. "You'll be charged with involuntary manslaughter, sued, and fired. Jail time will probably not happen since you worked with the system."

"I'll be going to jail?!" Andy snapped. He turned to Raydor. "You said nothing about jail time."

"There won't be jail time," she growled, returning her own gaze to the man besides her. "It's what would happen to anyone else. That's where he's going with this."

"So I'll be fired before I get arrested," Flynn nodded, standing. "Great."

He left the room. He needed air. He was almost on the roof anyway, not that he could go out there. He pushed the double glass doors that led to the patio and took in a deep breath. This was starting to get to him. The stress of not knowing. The items to the never ending list. All he wanted was an answer.

Fired? Or Not fired?

Raydor wasn't helping. The woman who was with him all the time now. The one he was starting to welcome. She was the bane of existence when he was the butt of the department's jokes. That only lasted a week.

Then when he wasn't being mocked, she was. That lasted a little while longer. It came from personnel in her own department. He had met her one morning in front and as they rode up the elevator younger men had snickered when they stepped on. Andy had moved to silence them but she had gotten him to stop by placing a hand to his wrist.

That didn't last long either. Someone must have told them to shut up and shape up because when they saw the duo again they averted their eyes.

"You're not doing yourself any favors by coming out here," he heard behind her.

He was leaning against the railing, his forearms resting against the black rail. Not straightening up, he threw a look over his shoulder. It was Raydor. She was dressed casually today. Much like how she when he first met her.

Flynn looked back to the city below him. He was going to start hating this place soon if he didn't get some answers. He was going to had his life more than he currently did. No kids, no wife, no job – most people would get themselves a permanent stool at a bar for all that. He couldn't. He wasn't able to or else he would be fired for sure.

"Not doing myself any favors sitting in there either." Flynn said to the city.

Getting himself fired would solve a lot of problems. It would get Raydor off his back and she could get back to her job. It would save the city a lot of money too. They wouldn't need to pay for legal bills that would be paid out of pocket from LAPD.

He turned and leaned back against the railing, giving her a look. She was starting in on him. She put her hands into her back pockets and stopped before him. She tried to give him a small smile but he pressed his lips together.

"If I'm getting fired I don't know why I'm not," he said. "This round the bush shit is starting to piss me off."

Sharon gave him a smile.

"What?"

"You're not getting fired," she said. "You won't be fired."

"How are you so sure of that?"

"Because the call placed into dispatch was from someone within the LAPD," she said. "The analytics of the bullets had been 'lost'. We're putting together a list of potentials but it looks like you're being framed."

Andy Flynn looked at her with a blank look. Framed. He was being framed. Which means if she could prove who did it he'd be able to come back to work. It begged the question, who hated Flynn enough to have this pinned on him to have him fired. To have him off the force.

He wanted to hug her. Hell he'd kiss her if it was appropriate but he was already on thin ice.

"What do –" Flynn started, knitting his brows together. "What do you know about it?"

She took a deep breath and sighed. She bit her lip and then shrugged.

"The calls into dispatch didn't add up." She pointed out. "The call for the suicide and the shooting was two minutes. You showed up a few minutes later."

Flynn thought about it. He hadn't heard the tapes since the first night. The night of the incident. He hadn't thought that maybe, just maybe, the tapes had been tampered with. It all came right after another.

Then it clicked.

They wanted an excuse. They wanted an excuse to fire him and this was it. They were going to put it all on his shoulders, rile him up enough to fire him. Andy Flynn will be the one in the LAPD study guides as the example of what not to do as a cop. It'll be his legacy; a disgraced cop.

"They want you to admit to the shooting so they can move on," Sharon pointed out. "You're being railroaded so someone else doesn't have to."

"I'm going to kill them," Andy said, his attitude going quick to anger. "I'm going to –"

He spun around and swung into the air. God this was frustrating. They wanted him tarred and feathered. All because someone else screwed the pooch.

A soft hand landed on his back and it eased him. It calmed him for a second before he spun around and glared at her.

It wasn't his fault. He knew it wasn't her fault. She was just trying to help, but god if only he could blame her. If it could be her fault it would be easier.

"I want this shit over and done with," Flynn growled at her. "This is bullshit and I'm tired of it."

The cursing was something Sharon Raydor was used to. Her ex-husband did it after he came home from work, having stopped at a bar on his way home. Andy was kinder about it. More self aware. He didn't curse around her often. Only did it for emphasis.

"You're not going to like what I have planned next," she said.

"Gentleman," Flynn said, a little later, after he and Raydor went over her plan. "You all can go to hell."

He tossed his temporary security card and department I.D., and it onto the table. This was all apart of the plan he thought quietly in his mind. Raydor was next to him, stone faced. She wasn't going to let the men in the room in on her secret. If she was right, they'd be asking him to stay.

She gathered up her things, taking her notebook in her hand and gestured to Flynn for the door. He nodded, gave her a small smile and what happened next stopped them both.

"You walk out of here you're fired Flynn," the man from earlier said. "You can't let him walk out of here."

The man was pointing a finger at Raydor. Okay, so that wasn't apart of the plan. But it was something he could work with.

"You have my badge, my gun, and now you have my security card." Flynn said nodding to the items on the table. "Until you need me for whatever plan you have yet to come up with, you know where to find me."

With that he turned on his heel and exited the room. He hung back at the elevator, taking a minute or two longer than needed, to press the button to go to the ground floor. The elevator dinged just as she was coming around the corner, the tell tale click of her heels on the floor. He held the door open and he waited until she was in the car to press the designated floor.

They were silent all the way down to the ground floor. He was waiting until there were no hidden microphones, no hidden cameras in the roof of the shaft, he was waiting until he had privacy. Privacy on a busy, noisy, LA Street to tell her what she could do to the rest of the plan.

The doors dinged and slid open and there was busy chatter on the other side. Sharon purposely strode through the small hallway and pushed her way through the turn style, nodding to the sergeant on the other side of the desk. The sergeant regarded Flynn but said nothing. He went back to his computer.

On the street, just before he made the right to go to the parking structure, Andy Flynn took a good look at the building before him. This was the home he fought for. This was the home he had fought for after Graduation day. This was the one he voted against to move. The old building was right behind him, a half a block away, but he still – this was his home.

It was the second one he was thrown out of. Involuntarily.

He made his way to Sharon Raydor and caught her around the wrist. She was already nearing the parking structure where she had parked her car. He spun her around and saw the surprise in her eyes. Her mouth had fallen open just enough for him to – no. He took a step back and dropped her hand.

"You're conspiring with the enemy." He said "This plan that you have, whatever it is could go south and instead of me getting the boot it'll be you."

"I'm aware of that," she nodded.

"Then why are you doing this?"

It was a smirk that he was left with as she walked away. He was going to regret this, but he went after her. He followed her up the two levels of stairs and to her car. Just as she was getting ready to close the door behind her, already in the driver seat, he caught it. Surprise flashed in her eyes. Maybe something else.

The tension melted after a handful of seconds. She narrowed her eyes at him and turned the key in the ignition, turning her engine over. She let him lean against the hood of her car as he dealt with whatever was bouncing back and forth in his head. She had seen that look in his eye from time to time over the last few weeks. He was debating with himself. Good idea or bad idea – whatever it was that he wanted to do.

It wasn't until after she clicked her belt into place, revved her engine just a bit that she gave him another look.

"Are you going to let me go home?" she asked.

He nodded and stood back, closing the door for her. He left the parking spot, left her and made his way for the stairs to go up another level where he had parked his own vehicle. The light tout of the horn had him stopping and turning. It was Sharon, rolling her passenger side window down and leaning over the center console.

"On my way home is a sandwich bar," she said. "You're more than welcome to join me. Or follow me."

"My car is up another floor," he said, shrugging. "I've got things to do."

"Get in," she said, popping the lock. "I'll give you a lift."

A lift was to the next floor where she sat until he got into his own and backed out of the car. A lift was what he gave her later on in the night when they finally left the sandwich bar and he had to take her around the corner to her car. A lift was the light bounce he had in his step when he walked up to his house at the end of the night. For once he felt good about himself. The realities and characters finally making sense in his head.

* * *

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	4. Los Angeles

_Thank you everyone who has been reading, favoriting, reviewing - words can't express how grateful I am to you guys!_

* * *

 _Chapter 3: Los Angeles_

The summer was coming to an end and he was still not working. Somehow he was getting checks in the mail, some sort of leave money that was credited to him. It was enough to get by for the month, plus the money he had in his savings – he wasn't going to be going broke anytime soon. He had been in and out of meetings with the LAPD, a lawyer, and Raydor. It was the last one where he had gotten a phone call from his ex-wife – she had sent the kids to LA from New York, to spend time with him.

He picked them up from the airport, thanked their chaperone, and took them, one in each hand to his car. That had been two weeks ago and the meetings he was supposed to be in, he wasn't. There was just no time. Not that he wanted to be in a meeting, but it was with his lawyer, that he realized he had to make some choices. The job or his kids?

He was laying out towels for his daughter Nicole when he heard the faint sound of the doorbell sound through his house. Andy gave the girl a smile and set a warm hand on her shoulder before going for the house.

The floor plan was a simple one. A front room with a hallway off to the left. Down the hallway was the master bed, a bathroom, and another room which he used most often than not as his office. Tucked in a corner on the other side of the bathroom was the kid's bedroom and the laundry room.

Coming in from the outside, Andy immediately stepped into his eating area with his kitchen to his right and his living room to the left. One gigantic open space that worked well when it came to parties. Not that he had many but, when the guys came over to watch a game or two, they could sit in the kitchen and still be able to see the TV.

A smile grew as he opened the door. Sharon Raydor was on the other side in a dress with sandals encasing her feet. She had a file in her hand, something else for him no doubt. He hadn't seen her in two weeks now and he was thinking about calling her. But she beat him to the punch, dropping by unannounced. She had a knack for doing that.

"Hey," he said, unlocking the secondary screen door and opening it towards her. "Come on in."

He stepped aside and allowed her in, reaching behind her to close the door and to lock it. He did the same with the front door and locked both of the top and bottom lock. Precautions and occupational hazard.

"You have a lovely home," she commented, stepping onto the carpet of his sitting room.

The sitting room had a couch, two rocking chairs, a fireplace and a bay window. The window was where he had found Nicole sitting at this morning, her nose in a fantasy book.

"The kids are out in the back," he pointed. "They want to swim."

She nodded and followed him out, closing the sliding door behind her.

"Kids," Andy said a little loud. "C'mere. I want you to meet someone."

Andy's son was itching to get into the pool. The boy had looked from the pool to the man who had beckoned him over. Sharon smiled inwardly. She had seen that look on her own son before.

"This is Sharon," he introduced. "She's been helping me with work stuff."

Both kids looked at the woman, smiled, and then nodded their heads as a form of greeting. They were quiet and when Andy made a motion for them to do something, the children let out a sigh. With a slight role of the eye both kids went back to their activities that were interrupted before they had been called over. Andy gave her an apologetic look which she simply waved off.

"Dad, can I go into the pool now?" the boy called.

"Go ahead," he said.

Andy offered Sharon one of the chairs that sat under the overhang. She slid right into the low seated chair, her back at a tilt instantly.

"What brings you over to this side of town?" Andy asked after a moment of silence.

"You're going before a board," she said, holding up the file. "A team of six officers will hear out your case, determine whether or not your actions were fit and they'll decide from there about your future with the LAPD."

"I thought we had made a deal already," he said flipping the folder open.

"That was before we found out you were being framed," she pointed out. "This is a new deal. A proper deal. The right way to go about things."

"You and your rules," he muttered, reading over the sheet.

He was to report to the PAB building in two weeks. There was a date, a time, and someone to report to. He felt a sense of relief. This mess was finally _finally_ going to be over.

"My rules help people save their jobs," she pointed out.

It made him smile, which in turn made her smile and he liked her smile. He liked a lot of things about her. She was funny. Quick witted and her dry sense of humor was attractive.

He had opened his mouth to say something else but it fell away due to Nicole walking over from her lounger.

"What are we going to eat for lunch?" Nicole questioned.

Andy wrapped an arm around the girl's thin waist and pulled her to him.

"What are you in the mood for?"

"Burgers!" She said happily. "And hot dogs."

Andy nodded and winked at Nicole pressing a kiss to her cheek. He had missed his daughter. He had missed both of his kids.

"Hey bud!" Andy shouted, getting his son's attention. "Burgers and dogs sound good?"

The kid gave him a thumbs up before diving into the water from the stairs.

Sharon laughed and shook her head. She smiled at Nicole who was smiling at her father. It was a heartwarming sight. A silver lining to Andy Flynn's terrible few months.

"Go back to your book," Andy nudged. "I'll let you know when they're done."

It was enough for Nicole to go back to her towel covered chair.

"You want to stay for lunch?" Andy asked. "Or do you need to get back to the office?"

"I have a day off," she said honestly.

"Good," he said with a light groan and standing. "You're staying."

He offered her his hand to help her out of the chair. He knew how hard they were to get out of. Her hand was small compared to his, yet it fit easily enough. He folded his fingers around hers and tugged her a little.

Sharon looked back to see Nicole was engaged in whatever it was that she was reading. Andy's son was doing tricks off the side of the pool, staying in the shallow side. He trusted his kids enough to leave them alone. It helped, she supposed, that while he washed his hands at the sink of his kitchen he could look out and see them.

She rotated her wrist, flexed her fingers as she stood on the other side of the island and watched as Andy prepared himself to begin cooking the burgers and hot dogs his kids asked for. She held her hand. It was a thought that made her feel like she was young –younger – again. The giddy feeling added to the warmth that floated into her cheeks. She shook her head and leaned against the tiled top and tried to push it aside.

"Your kids are incredibly behaved," she pointed out.

Her attention was pulled by black and white framed photos that sat on a cabinet. In one was Andy, younger than he was now, with a newborn baby. Another was next to it, which she immediately recognized as the boy who was currently in the pool, on his father's shoulders. Both of them had matching smiles. The third was of Andy, his wife Sharon assumed, and their children.

"I can't take any credit," he shrugged. "Nicole hates me yet loves her step-father."

"At least she doesn't throw a tantrum when you're around," she shrugged. "That's a point in the Flynn column."

Andy shrugged as he pulled condiments out of the fridge. He turned and pulled two bowels down and slid them towards Sharon when she met him at the island.

"What about you?" He asked, not taking his eyes off her while he reached up to the top of the fridge and pulled down a bag of chips. "You have kids?"

'Nevermind' was the next word ready to come out of his mouth when he saw the flash of pain in her eyes. 'You don't have to answer that' was going to follow when she looked out and onto his kids. 'Idiot' was the word spinning through his mind when she righted her head and found the grout of the tile interesting.

"I do," she nodded, looking up, tilting her head. She gave him a small, sad, smile. "I have two. Emily and Ricky."

"How old?"

"10 and 13," she said with a smile. "Emily turns 14 next month."

"Not much older than those guys," he said, pointing to his own children. "Where are they? If you don't mind me asking."

She sighed and swallowed hard.

"My husband has the kids," she said. "Ex-husband actually."

And nodded and reached out to her. "You don't have to say anything."

Sharon shrugged and came over onto the other side of the island. She flipped the lever for the sink and let her hands get soaked by the warmth of it. She nudged him out of her way with her hip, a smile curling at the corner of her mouth, maybe as an apology for bumping him out of the way. She looked up as the water covered her hands, the suds of the soap slipping between her fingers, she watched as his children played in the backyard.

Nicole had joined her brother in the pool. The girl was splashing the water around her, laughing as it hit her brother and he jumped away. It only spurred her on more. Eventually, once he got his head above it, he splashed her back. A water war that thrilled the children.

"I had custody," she said, her eyes still focused on the splashing children. "My husband was, still is, a drunk and I divorced him for it. Somehow, he got a judge to overturn the initial ruling and granted him full custody."

"How?"

"Jack is a lawyer," she said. "A very good one."

Andy bit his tongue. Sharon knew about his own past. How could she not after spending so much time with him recently, knowing his jacket inside and out, enough to toss old cases from when he was a rookie in Internal Affair's faces. She had done her research. It was impressive. It was time consuming. Time she apparently had.

"He found a piece of the custodial agreement that he managed to persuade the judge I didn't do," she shrugged. "He pulled other things, case files from work, time cards, whatever he needed to prove I was not around enough to provide for my kids."

"You were making the money," he said saddling up to her. "You had a job. How were you not providing for them?"

She shut off the water and reached blindly for the towel that rested to her left. He was impressed that the woman who had been in the kitchen for less than ten minutes already knew the layout of things. Of course, the woman was a detective, a cop, she knew how to take in her surroundings fairly quickly. With a small smile, she dried her hands and looked up at him.

"It was a case," she said. "Isn't it always a case?"

She dropped the towel and turned around, her back to the children, her eyes focused on the fridge filled with magnets, children's drawings, and photos. Hers had been like that. She still has a drawing of her sons in her room, a card written by Emily the previous year for Mother's Day – it was all she had of them.

Andy had shrugged a shoulder. There was a difference than falling into a rabbit hole and jumping into one. Falling into it meant you were blind to your surroundings, so focused on the task or tasks at hand, that the rest of the world is just blurred. Jumping into it is the conscious decision to allow whatever it is to consume you. Both things is consuming. Jumping or falling. Jumping at the chance to drink, falling into bed drunk; some call it an occupation hazard. Others call it reality.

"Where are they now?"

"Las Vegas," she said, emphasizing it with a hint of anger, guilt, and annoyance. "He got custody and left."

"You don't get to see them at all?"

"Every other holiday," she informed him. "And that's if he manages to get away from the office on time."

He shook his head. This was a mess. She was a mess. He couldn't fathom how someone would take his own children away from their mother. Kids needed their mother more than a father. He had come to realize that over the last few years.

Andy turned and pressed a hand to her shoulder. She was still leaning back against the sink and he was facing the window, taking a look at his kids. They were both calm now, the two of them doing laps in the pool.

He brushed his thumb against the top of her shoulder. It was a sign of understanding. He felt her relax under his touch. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her profile. She had turned her head and he had turned his. His hand was still on her shoulder and he found himself leaning in.

A gentle brush of lip had been interrupted by Nicole. The sliding glass door had opened just when Andy was going to brush his thumb against her jaw. He was going to turn towards her. He was going to deepen whatever it was that was happening between them. It was electric.

"Daddy," Nicole was saying as she came into the house. "Do we have chips?"

Andy had his back to her and Sharon was already looking over his shoulder and smiling at the girl. She had detached herself and he couldn't figure out if it was because she was embarrassed or she wanted to tend to his daughter's request.

He slipped his eyes closed and took a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth. When he opened them and turned, Nicole was already out of the room and headed back into the backyard towards her book. Sharon was rolling up the top of the bag, her eyes averted. He didn't notice the faint blush across her cheeks.

"Go to dinner with me," he said.

She looked up, her hands paused on the sides of the bag. She tilted her head and nodded. He smiled and went to the meat in front of him.

Was it a violation of ethics? Absolutely. If he didn't get fired and this – whatever it was – turned into something more, they would have to report it. Andy Flynn was fine. He just didn't want to be in trouble for _his_ impulses. He was the one who kissed her after all.

* * *

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	5. Hound Dog

_Thank you to everyone who has been reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing this story. Words can't express how much it means to me._

* * *

 _Chapter 4: Hound Dog_

It took three weeks for Andy Flynn to take Sharon Raydor out. There had been nothing coming in from the PAB and she had to take an emergency leave to go up North to be with her parents. Her father had fallen ill or something. She had called Jack to ask him for the kids and she never got a hold of him. It saddened her, but she went up north anyway.

Her returned was announced by a quiet knock on his front door. He had looked out the window first, seeing no car, he took his time to the door. On the other side of it was Sharon, sad, tears in her eyes, but a small smile. She was home. Sad, but home.

The trip had taken a lot out of her. Her father nearly died. He had caught a bad case of pneumonia and only had four percent lung capacity. The rest was filled with water. According to Sharon, the symptoms had come in over night. Her mother was scared, called Sharon when her father began to cough. She had her mother call 911 and met them at the hospital.

Sharon had been gone for almost two weeks. When she came back she didn't leave his house with the exception of going to work. She had put the call in that she was back, placed on call, and a morning while the pair were at breakfast her phone rang. A young officer with anger management issues punched out a suspect. That case took her nearly a week.

It made him laugh. His case was going on months and this kid's case took a few days of investigation, paperwork, and now the guy was on suspension. He brought it up to her and all she did was shake her head, roll her eyes and disappeared into his bathroom.

They were being domestic. It didn't bother him. He had the extra room, the one she claimed that night of her return. There had been no more kissing either, which was fine. But there were stolen glances, touches that could be claimed as intimate, and moments were the tension was so thick a simple kiss would resolve into something more. He didn't know if they were ready for that yet. If they ever would be.

She had been the one who brought up the date. Him taking her out. The proposition made in the heat of the moment and everyway wanted. He told her to dress comfortable. They weren't going somewhere fancy, but they weren't going to a slum of a place either.

It was a hole in the wall place Downtown. Small. Intimate. Romantic. It had a dance floor which he liked. The interior replicated the top of a skyscraper. Reservations weren't usually allowed – a first come first serve basis due to the fact that no one really knew about it. There was no sign on the door, no advertisement anywhere. A happy accident Andy Flynn once stumbled upon a few years ago when he was trying to get into the good graces of his now ex-wife.

"We're not going to have to wait in a line?" Sharon asked.

Andy shook his head. The cab dropped them off a block away. She wanted to walk and enjoy the warm air of the season. His hand had remained on her lower back after someone had approached her, begging her for money. She had politely denied them, but it didn't prevent Andy from stepping closer.

He had stopped in front of the brick building. There was a door with a padlock on it. The pretenses that no one was home and that the building had otherwise been abandoned.

Flynn rapped his knuckles against the middle door and smiled at the surprise when the brick wall opened, a slight sliver of the door and a person sticking their head out. He nodded to her when she looked back and she stepped in, over the threshold and into the building.

The look of amazement on her face had nearly matched his when he first came upon it. He had been walking down the street, his wife at the time stumbled, knocked her hand against the door and when it opened, the host waved them in. They had stumbled into a coveted lounge, with a full service bar. It was all Andy Flynn at the time needed to get through his night with the Mrs.

"How did you find this place?" she asked, slipping off her coat and handing it to the woman who had her arms stretched out.

"Came here with the wife," he shrugged. "It wasn't her thing."

"You think it's mine?" she asked.

As if on cue, the melodies of a jazz musician filled the space. There were a few people off to the side. He once asked what they claimed a good night; 25 people at the most. They were open every day of the week, there were the regulars and then the people who happened to stumble on it. The prices weren't cheap, but they weren't ridiculous either. Somehow, they made it work to stay in business.

Sharon was staring at the photos of the skyscrapers that littered the country. She was reading the tag for the Empire State Building when Andy took her hand. She didn't shake him off, didn't try to undo the hold, she simply curled her hand into it. The look of surprise melted into a thin wolfish smile. She couldn't help but smile at it.

He had led her to a table, a smaller one, a table fit for two. She slid into one side and Andy waited to slip into the other. A woman appeared quickly with waters and menus before disappearing again.

"So," Andy said, looking at her over her menu. "What brought you to the LAPD?"

She reached for her water, drank some of it before setting it down. She was collecting her thoughts. Choosing her words carefully. It was something he noticed. She wanted to be precise.

"I was going to be a lawyer," she said. "I married Jack and he already had his foot in the door in law school so we waited. He was going to go to law school, get a job and then pay my way through it. A trade. Instead I got pregnant, he went to work, and I raised our daughter. When she was old enough for day-care I applied for the force, went through the academy, and had my son a year later."

"So no law school."

"No law school." She nodded. "I miss it sometimes. Seeing what my friends do. Trying to figure out what I could have done to make their case easier. But I suppose I get that in the LAPD."

"Justice?"

"That and closure," she shrugged. "A case is finished. The outcome might be different than what we want, but it's closure."

The waitress brought a bottle of wine to the table. Poured Sharon a glass after Andy waved it off and sat it off to the side. A small plate of appetizers was brought next. An assortment of cheeses and breads and fruit. It was nice. Enough for two.

"What about you?" she asked. Her mouth was partially full due to the bite of cheese and bread she took.

Andy shrugged his shoulder. "My dad was a cop. My grand-dad was a cop. Made sense that I was one too."

"Do you think your son will go in that direction?"

"I hope to god not," he said, getting her to laugh.

He figured his Dad didn't want him to be a cop either. The job itself was a dangerous one. It was a daily reminder that every time the uniform was put on, the belt of tools and the gun was slipped into it's holster, might be the last time. That there would be a suspect who will shoot him dead. Or a misfire. Anything could harm him on the job.

Their meals had been brought. A chicken platter for him and a salad concoction of some sort for her. He had laughed at her as she picked at the salad, moving it's leafs around before dumping the dressing on top and diving in. She pointed out that for a man who didn't eat meat, he was going against his morals and eating a chicken. He had claimed it was his cheat day and that had made her smile.

The smile on this woman was something he enjoyed seeing. It thrilled him even more that he was the cause of it more often than not while they were together.

It was mid way through desert, a chocolate layered mousse concoction, Sharon's paired with wine, that he wiped his mouth. He pushed his chair back and offered her his hand. He didn't miss the wary look she had given him, but he still persisted.

"I don't dance," she said, even though she took it.

"Yeah," he said, not believing her. "But you used to."

It was something in her file that he looked into. It was only fair he did some research on her. She danced and was a talented one until she met the end of her career due to a fractured ankle and prolonged recovery. He figured it was around the time she met Jack, fell in love, and the rest of it was history. It made sense that she had been athletic. Her record was perfect – she had broken a few records.

A slow song was coming to an end when they stepped onto the floor. Her hand was loose in his, not necessarily a hold, but it was still in his. She hadn't pulled back once they went from carpet to hardwood. He tightened it when the music stopped and then kicked back in. A classic with a nice beat.

It wasn't just them who was on the floor. People who were hiding in the shadows had joined them and the four pairs danced to the music.

Instinctually, he pulled her closer. A hand to the lower back had them move in unison to the song. He could have dipped her. The music would have allowed him to, but it he was not looking to get shot. Or maimed. So he kept the hand at her back, her hand in his and it was her who pressed their joined hands to his chest.

An eyebrow was raised in question. She simply smiled and shrugged her shoulder. He couldn't help but grin in return. He took a step back and pushed her back, swinging her out and pulling her back in with a light spin. She when he caught her around the waist again. He turned them around to the clapping of various patrons. He watched as she started getting a little color in her cheeks.

He leaned and pressed his lips to her cheek. He felt her stiffen and then melt into the embrace. A leg was between hers and they swayed that way. He felt the brush of her hair against his neck. He didn't need to tilt his head to see her face buried in his shoulder.

The end of the song came and he spun her around once more, a little slower than the end and he took the chance to dip her. He had her supported at her lower back even though it wasn't a deep dip. When he pulled her back up she was smiling. A smile he had not yet witnessed and he realized then that he was –

A round of applause was heard and Andy gave her a wink. Who knew who they were clapping for, but he squeezed her hand. She squeezed back as they stepped off the wooden floor. He didn't let go, didn't plan to, until they were at the table. She refused to let go. It had him turning around and turning towards her.

"Let's get out of here," she said, her voice hopeful.

It took him by surprise. He nodded and reached over grabbing a quick drink of water. He still hadn't let go of her hand. Together, with her pressed against his side, they retrieved their coats and stepped out into the chilled air. It was a few doors down that he stopped and she buried herself into his chest.

It wasn't that cold. It was closer to 70 than 60, so her sudden need for warmth was unexpected. Not that he minded. He enjoyed her being close. He enjoyed her being near him. It was a vast difference of what he wanted from her then the beginning.

What happened next was definitely a surprise. A warmth hand, gentle fingers, traveled his check. Her thumb brushed his jaw as she leaned up enough to press her lips to his. He cradled her in his hand, his fingers weaving with her hair. His other hand found its purchase around her waist and on her hip.

Her moan was lost in the symphony of horns honking, wolf whistles, and whatever else happened at that exact moment. He pulled back but found himself drawn to her, so he kissed her again. And again. One more time until he forced himself to pull back and see the tint of her cheeks. To feel the tightness of her hand in his. There was no way she was letting go now.

The headache he felt the next morning was due to lack of sleep. The pain he felt in his back and in his legs were for another reason. It was the reason he had a smile on his face and it was also the reason why he was searching the space next to him. It wasn't warm, but it wasn't cold either.

Rolling off of his side and onto his back, he groaned. His back hurt from the first round which was against the back of his couch. His legs hurt from the second round which took place in the shower – their first attempt at getting clean. His shoulders hurt from the third round, trying to keep himself up right without falling. The fourth and final round, the final attempt in the shower, had them crawling back into bed and collapsing with exhaustion.

Andy glanced at the clock. That had been nearly three hours ago. Lack of sleep. Headache. Ipubrofen. Water.

He expected Sharon to be gone. Not to have stayed but the note he found on his bedside table made him thing different. She wanted to stay if she could have.

 _Called into office. Family called in lawyers._

He pushed himself up and out of bed. Took a quick shower. Again. And dressed for the day. He drove Downtown. Traffic wasn't awful getting there, but it wasn't great either. They were always building new buildings, adding things for transportation – things he didn't expect to be utilizing.

Sharon was in the lobby when he stepped into it. He noticed her when he shifted his sunglasses from their spot against the bridge of his nose to the top of his head. She had a phone pressed to her ear, the extension coming from the other side of the lobby desk. The grin he had on his lips faltered at the cold expression she gave him when he stopped in front of her.

"He just got here," she said.

She hummed into the receiver and handed it to the desk sergeant on the other side. Without pretense, she grabbed Andy's hand and dragged him through the lobby, through the turn style, and bypassed the elevators. She rounded the corner and slammed her hand into the push bar and waited until it clicked shut.

It was then that she stood at the base of the staircase and spun around, her hand going for his neck. She pulled him down and pulled him into a kiss. He knew it was coming, expected it. It just came a little bit later than anticipated.

His hands went to her hips and pushed her back when air became a necessity. She looked bothered he realized. The green of her eyes that had been so bright the night before and early this morning was gone. Replaced by something else.

"Sharon, what's wrong?"

"The family hired a lawyer," she said, her breath still trying to be caught. "The hired a lawyer and it's Jack."

"Jack? Jack who?"

"Jack my husband, Jack," she said. "Father of my children, Jack."

He lunged for her. He kissed her with everything he had in him. He caught the moan that escaped and tightened his hold against her waist. He would have made her indecent if he had the chance, if he had the time, if there wasn't the looming possibility that someone could walk in on them. So he kissed her and pressed his fingers against her, tight. He wanted her. He wanted her before the world came crashing around them.

It was going to happen. He could feel it. He could sense it like a dog on a hunt. Life as he knew it was over.

* * *

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	6. Plea Bargain

_Thank you all so, so much for the reviews to this story! I really appreciate it. Can't wait to hear what you guys think about this story!_

* * *

 _Chapter 5 - Plea Bargain_

Once he detached himself from Sharon, which was easier said than done, he lapsed into silence. He had followed her up a flight of stairs, keeping his hands to himself and joined her on the elevator. He had stepped to the side, keeping his distance. He didn't want to stand close to her and compromise them if and when the doors opened prematurely. He wouldn't have been able to explain himself.

The elevator bell dinged and the stepped off. He followed her as she rounded the corner, keeping at an arms length, and even that didn't stop him from nearly running into her. She had come to compete standstill just before their usual conference room. He noticed her eyes grow wide, her stance change, and before he knew it she was on a knee with her arms stretched out.

A duo of dark hair and long limbs made their way down the hallway in a blur. The boy reached Sharon first and she caught him in her a hug easily. The girl was swept up to, with just as much enthusiasm. For a second, Andy thought he might have seen a tear or two in Sharon's eyes. Of that he had no doubt. She missed her kids.

It was then that he noticed the other man at the end of the hallway. Tall, filled, a hand in his pocket with his head bent had his eyes on the children. It was a fatherly look. A younger man stood next to him, talking to him. Andy had to give the other man credit, he never looked away from the children. Realizing he was being watched, the man Andy presumed was Jack met his eye. He straightened and nodded, his hand slipping out of his pocket.

Andy had looked away and back down to the scene before him Sharon stood and pushed her children back down the hallway in the direction in which they came. She waved goodbye as they disappeared around the corner. She reached out to him and stopped herself. He gave her a small, understanding smile. He got it. He did.

He wanted to reach out for her too. He wanted to hug her, be happy for her – hell he'd kiss her too if he could. Circumstances and location stood in their way. If it wasn't for the fact that they were standing in the middle of the floor, cameras surrounding them, black and white officers walking up and down the hallways with secretaries here and there he would have. They were there because he was being scapegoated and she had a job to do.

"I got you a lawyer," she said as they stepped into the empty conference room. "He should be up any minute."

Her eyes were on the thin wrist watch as she lowered herself into one of the chairs. Andy had done the same, just on the opposite side, trying to maintain professional distance. Although it didn't stop him from stretching out his leg in hope to catch the fabric of her pants.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

She looked like she got a full night's rest and he knew that wasn't the case. She gave him a smile and it didn't quite reach her eyes. He couldn't tell if it was because she was tired, or if it was because she had her kids for a few minutes, but he wanted it to reach her eyes.

"I'm okay," she said, smoothing her skirt. "A little tired."

The look Andy received made him smile. A little embarrassed that he had been the one to keep her up. But she was an active participant. It filled him with, not necessarily pride, but something akin to it knowing he tired her out the way he did. It helped his ego just a bit.

"We should-"

They were interrupted when a knock on the glass had Sharon turning around. A blonde man was coming into the room, reaching for Sharon to kiss her cheek. It was Gavin Baker, attorney at law, there to represent Andy.

As far as first impressions went, Andy was not a fan of his newly appointed lawyer. He seemed aloof, only focused on Sharon, her love life, her kids, her job, not the reason he was there. Baker commented on her appearance and called her out for being tired. She shrugged him off and said she had a busy night, which forced Andy to bite the inside of his cheek. Damn right she was busy.

Baker also commented on the state of her hair. The fullness of it. How long it was. He made it seem like they hadn't seen each other in some time and the 'big hair' as he put it was new. Andy was just glad that he didn't say it looked like someone had their hands in it because he knew – Andy _knew_ – she would have turned a different color.

It was when he was all good and done paying attention to Sharon that he turned to Andy and let him have it. Baker made Andy recount the activities from the day however long ago now, piece by piece, and wrote notes. He asked Andy about his track record before the incident, asking him about the anger management classes he was forced to attend, or the rehab stint that he was mandated to go to for a week. The line of questioning had Andy narrowing his eyes at Sharon for a moment before answering the attorney's questions.

"The family wants you to resign," Baker said, matter of factly. "You don't want to resign, correct?"

He had gotten used to being able to go do whatever he wanted. He was able to see a baseball game, he was able to be with his kids more; if this is what retired was, he could get used to it. But there would be that feeling in the back of his neck, or his guy, whenever he heard a siren. He got it now. That need to go seek it out, to go help, to do his job. He would miss it. He did miss it.

Resigning would give him an opportunity to be with Sharon, instead of sneaking off for a quickie in the supply closet. Or a secret affair that remained in his home in the event her ex-husband decided to drop the kids off unannounced. He wanted to date her, on a real date, without the risk of being fired for it. If he stayed on he would have to deal with the inter-office shenanigans and it was no one's business but his and hers. There was also the possibility that she didn't want a relationship.

"No," he said, taking a look at Sharon who was seated besides the attorney.

"Perfect," Baker said, clapping his hands. "You will be going in front of a board, which I'm sure Sharon has told you all about."

It was a disciplinary board. A board of higher ranking officers who will have gone over his case, determine whether or not he's fit to remain on the force and make their decision. Judge and jury wrapped up into a nice package. Sharon had sat in on a board once before, he remembered. She wasn't part of it – it was training for when she joined the squad.

"If you are found, guilty, shall we say," Gavin went on. "They'll give you an option. An undetermined amount of time without pay and a quiet firing. Or a resignation."

The quiet resignation would be a slow moving process. He'd be allowed to go into his desk, pack a box, and leave without compromise. A formal announcement or memo would be released at a later date. They were being kind by allowing him to resign. They would back date the request so it looked like it wasn't part of the investigation.

"If you are found not guilty," he said, shuffling papers in front of him. "You will be reinstated after a mandatory evaluation and review."

"Which are all things she has already told me," he said pointing to Sharon. "Tell me something I don't know."

"You will lose your pension if you are let go," Baker said. "Your 401k will be tossed out the window and the un-employment you hope to receive will be used up because you will be paying me."

Andy glared at him. "Is that all?"

"The family's lawyer is Jack Ray-" Gavin began, stopping to silently ask Sharon permission to continue.

She granted it with a nod of the head. It was fine. Andy knew who Jack was.

"Raydor," Gavin continued. "I can contest conflict of interest. Seeing as Mr. Raydor has represented this family before."

"He has?" Sharon quickly questioned.

"The daughter was brought in on drug charges a few years ago," Gavin filled in for her. "They couldn't afford one so Jack was brought in. They liked him so much, they called him in from Las Vegas, to represent them."

Andy cut a look to Sharon who met his eyes. This could be a good thing for them. He saw the wheels behind her eyes working. She was trying to come up with a plausible way this would make him and the department look good. It was the small smile that made him realize she was coming up with nothing.

Yes, the department needed to look good. The new chief wasn't going to have any of this 'conflict of interest'. Neither were the lawyers. Jack could negate the argument, claim he is on retainer, and the charge would get thrown out. Jack was a weasel and knew the system as well as Sharon knew the LAPD. It was a battle of wits.

"The end is coming, Andrew," Gavin said, drawing out the name. "The end is near."

"I hope so," he groaned lightly.

The meeting lasted until lunch time. The next week was going to be meetings with various members of Gavin's firm. It was to see if there was a difference in the story from one person to another. Flynn was going to make sure there wasn't. The facts were the facts and he would never alter them.

Sharon had walked Gavin out and found Andy leaning against the parking structure. She had her sunglasses on her nose, looking at the ground, when she felt his gaze. She looked up and gave him a smile. She brushed her hair out of her face, shook it over her shoulder and rested the hand on her hip.

"You want to get out of here?" He asked.

What he wanted to do was go home, preferably with her, and take a nap. What he was willing to do was take her out to lunch, then home, then bed.

"There's that sandwich place around the corner from your place," she said. "Or we can go to the restaurant at the top of your block."

"Investigating are we?" He asked, grinning.

Flynn pushed off the wall and turned into the structure. He had parked on the fourth floor with no idea where she parked. Her car hadn't been on the street when he left.

"Scouting my choices," she retorted with a smile of her own.

He knew that one reached her eyes.

The restaurant at the top of his street was a family owned Italian place. It was a mother son investment, where friends and family operated it. The owner, son, Nick, was the one who had taken their order and recommended the fettuccini which had a thick Alfredo sauce. He threw in a salad and an order of bread for the table.

Sharon and Andy shared the fettuccini; Andy had made a mess, trying to split the dish on two separate plates. It got her to laugh. It also had her apologizing to Nick when he came around to offer them more drink. The man without a bat of an eye, wiped the table clean.

"That was rich," Sharon said, stepping out of the restaurant.

Andy was already slipping his hand into hers, glad he parked at home and they walked. The night was nice, warmer than the night before, but not hot. He marveled at the linked fingers, Sharon chatting away about the richness of the food; the desert was decadent. It was a rich chocolate cake with a layer of strawberry sauce some how placed in the middle. She wasn't one for sweets, but the plate was nearly empty when they left.

Sharon had been sleeping in the guest room, the one where his kids would have stayed if their mother hadn't come back early. After the night before, Andy found himself staring at her in the mirror when they finally arrived home. She was taking off her earrings, laying them down on the countertop, a practiced motion as if having been done for years. She closed the door with a wink and stepped out minutes layer in one of his t-shirts.

They had fallen asleep after another round of getting acquainted with each other. It was slow and quiet. It wasn't nearly as fast or rough or needy as the night before. Not that he minded. It was nice to have fallen asleep with her in his arms and know that she was going to be there the next morning.

She was and he knew she was because they were both woken up by the shrill sound of her mobile device. Truth be told, he didn't know she had one. It wasn't until she pulled it out in the car, to call Jack, to give him the number, did Andy know about it.

She groaned and rolled over into him, pressing her lips to his bare shoulder. She didn't want to be awake. She wanted to go back to sleep.

"Raydor," she muttered sleepily into the device.

Andy pressed his warm hand to her otherwise bare back. He had rolled onto his side and pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades. If it was work, they could go to hell. He was going to keep her in bed as long as he could. If it was anyone else, they could go to hell too. They were running on little sleep.

"I'll be right there," she said quickly, sitting up and standing up.

It caught Andy's attention and made him sit up in bed. He watched her as she made a beeline for the bathroom, flipping on the light and bringing out the suit from the previous day in her arms. She was flustered. She eyed the clock.

 _4:15 am._

She cursed as she sat at the edge of the bed and fished for her underwear. The warm hand Andy had on her back minutes ago was back and she snapped her head to look at him. Before and even now he faltered a little bit, but now he pressed his fingers into the muscle, reminding her he was there.

"What happened?"

"I have to get to Children's." she said, standing up.

She left the room and he followed. He slipped into his boxers earlier – he had gotten up to use the bathroom. He followed her into the guest room and watched as she hauled her bag onto the bed, going through it.

Blouse after blouse, skirt after skirt, she pulled out of her bag. It wasn't until she reached what could have only been the bottom, did she pull out a pair of slacks. He would have to take her stuff to the dry cleaners – or her's if she had a preference.

"What's going on?"

She huffed and moved around him, giving him a glance up and down as if to silently berate him for not being dressed. Or at least moving towards becoming dressed. He caught her by the hand and turned her.

Her eyes were wet. Set with determination. It took him by surprise. She was vulnerable. Then his mind played catch up.

"Did you say you had to go to Children's?"

Sharon nodded and curled herself into him and his embrace for a moment.

"The kid's were in a car accident." She muttered into his chest. "Jack is at the Kaiser across the street."

"What happened?"

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't know."

It wasn't until the sun was fully up, the streets below them buzzing with the sounds of traffic that the doctors had come out to talk to Sharon.

Her son had a fractured wrist. Her daughter had a concussion from hitting the passenger window. Her ankle was twisted and possibly fractured. What had Sharon inhaling a sharp breath was the news that her son might have internal bleeding. He had caught her with an arm around her waist as she began to collapse.

What she loved more than anything was her children. It killed him to know that Raydor was across the street, being treated, and having his stomach pumped. If he could, he'd have the man arrested for drunk driving, child endangerment, and a slew of other things just to keep him away from Sharon and the kid's. Why he would do something so _stupid_ , Andy did not know. But he was going to get to the bottom of it.

Andy was waiting in the lobby for Sharon, having messaged her from outside. She was coming towards him just as his phone began to ring. She gave him a small smile.

"Answer it," she said, nodding to the phone. "It's Gavin."

Her phone began to ring too. It was the LAPD. It was HQ.

He gave her a weary look.

"I've resigned from the case," she told him. "I'm personally involved. My involvement in the case is biased. Gavin is calling you to tell you your IA representation has changed."

He gave her a dumbstruck look. Distinctively, as if she were the one who had he pulled her close. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. He couldn't be mad at her. Not for this. Not now.

"Yeah," Andy huffed into his phone.

With the warmth pressed up against him as he took the attorney's call, one thing was crystal clear. One thing he refused to admit until now, until this second.

He was in love with _her._

* * *

 _Thank you all for reading, reviewing, favoriting! Let me know what you think about this chapter._


	7. Trial and Error

_Hey Guys! I am back! Took a 2 weeks hiatus, trying to figure out a few things with this story. We are in the home stretch. Four more chapters._

 _Thank you all to those who have been reading, reviewing, and favoriting. I really appreciate it!_

* * *

 _Chapter 6 - Trial and Error_

Andy Flynn had not seen Sharon in over a week. Since the morning of the accident, he had been whisked away into meeting after meeting. New Internal Affairs representation, meant the officer had to re-evaluate the situation. Sharon's notes had been extensive, a clear blue print of the next course of action in tandem with Flynn's lawyer. The roadblock that they were dealing with was that the new IA rep – a kid Sharon swore by – did not like Baker.

The constant bickering between the two men frustrated Flynn to no end. Some how it was worth the stress and annoyance. He was finally getting a board meeting with Delk and Pope. That was to happen soon. Emphasis on soon, he was told. If things worked in their favor. Apparently there was some meeting that the duo had to be part of and pushing the date up was more likely to happen.

All in all he missed Sharon. He had gotten used to her being in his bed in the morning. She had her own place, sure. He stayed over at her place, sure. But the waking up thing – the domestic rhythm – they found themselves in had been working for them. He missed it. He missed everything about it.

Dating her was one thing. Listening to her talk about the case, watching her slip into this persona he did not like, was another thing. He liked the no nonsense woman who refused to take no for an answer. She was feisty. She was something else. The version of Sharon that hung out with him on her off days, who walked with him along the beach – the girlfriend esque persona – the one he was falling in love with – he missed her.

With a bag of groceries in his arm and a bouquet of flowers in the other, he tried not to smash anything while he tried to knock on the door. It was faint and he was going to juggle a few things around but stopped when he heard movement inside of her place.

Gavin had let it slide that Sharon was home and had been home with the kids upon their release. That had been a couple days ago. It wasn't courage that Andy was trying to muster – he was trying to give her space. He had a feeling Sharon hadn't told her children about him.

The scratch of the door unlocking had him straightening up. The door cautiously opened and the tired green eyes met his. They softened when the door opened wider, a smile settled on Sharon's lips when recognition set in.

"Hey," Flynn said with a shrug.

Her eyes danced from the flowers to the bag of groceries and stepped aside. He couldn't touch her. Not with the kids in the house. He wanted to kiss her – that had been their routine. It felt odd to him that he couldn't get back to it.

"Ricky and Emily are in their room," she said.

He took that as an invitation. He dropped the bag on the counter and spun around, catching the back of her neck in his hand and her waist in his other, pulling her to him. He pressed his lips to hers hard. His tongue danced at her bottom lip, prying her mouth open and on a sigh she granted him access. He felt better. He felt whole again.

The meetings that he had to sit through weren't like the ones he sat through with her. Her voice had become soothing. He knew she was fighting _for_ him and not against him. It was a different feeling with Elliot. He felt guarded, worried, hopeless and Andy had expressed that to Gavin. Gavin wasn't sold on Elliot either.

He released her when he was forced to swallow her moan. She had stepped back and curled her fingers around the island of her kitchen. She gave him a smile. She had missed him too. She missed waking up next to someone from an elongated period of time. She had missed the feeling of being wanted and not used.

Her children were using her because she was the only one they had. She was their mother, she could be used every which way. That was fine. It was Jack who had used her to get under their skin. Emily refused to talk to her for the first day, after Sharon brought her home. Ricky was more conversational.

"I brought stuff to make dinner," he said, motioning to the bags. "Those are for you."

He bought her lilies. They were expensive and the last bunch the store had, but they were worth it. Every dollar was worth it when Sharon apprehensively reached out to touch a pedal. Or when she delicately lifted them out of the plastic and into a vase that was in the storage space above her stove. It was all worth it when she pressed her lips to his cheek and hovered.

"Thank you," she said breathily into his ear, squeezing his free hand.

It was all worth it.

"How are the kids?"

He wanted to show that he cared. All he knew was that Ricky was better off than initially reported and Emily had in fact broken her ankle, which was a lot better than a sprain. Sprains were more difficult to heal.

"Emily refused to talk to me," she shrugged. "Made Ricky fetch everything for her."

Andy began to take things out of the bags and set them on her counter. She had reached for the lettuce and cracked it, washing it.

"His wrist was fractured," she said. "But they only gave him a soft cast. The fracture is small."

"That's good, right?"

Sharon nodded in the affirmative and set the lettuce in a bowl. She had her hand on his hip, reaching over for the bag of croutons when the tell tale click of Emily's crutches sounded down the hallway. There hadn't been enough time to detach herself from the man, to give herself enough distance. Emily hovered in the living room, her eyes on the things displayed on the counter and then up to Andy.

"You're Flynn?" Emily questioned immediately.

"I am," he nodded. "You must be Emily."

The girl quirked an eyebrow as if to say 'Duh'. Andy grinned inwardly, tossing a glance over his shoulder to Sharon. The woman's face was tinged with pink. She was embarrassed. The girl got her attitude from Jack – that much was evident.

"Mom," Emily started. "Are we ordering dinner?"

"No," Sharon said. "Andy is making us dinner."

Surprise filled the girl's eyes. It was the use of the first name falling off of her mother's lips that surprised her. It was the fact that there was a man standing in her mother's kitchen, seemingly at home, that surprised her. Her father had mentioned someone had replaced him and the realization this man was him – it unsettled her.

"Oh," Emily commented.

"You want to pull up a chair?" Andy questioned. "Maybe you can help your Mom out and cut the tomatoes."

Sharon gave her daughter a wink and a nod. Andy wasn't there to intrude. Sharon knew that, but she saw the apprehension in her daughter's eyes. She had been living with Jack and if he spoke negatively about Sharon and her life – the apprehension was expected.

Emily gave in and crutched her way over to the table, settling her crutches against the table, wincing when one of them toppled over. She had to keep her leg elevated – the hard cast would be coming off in a couple weeks and she had to make sure she didn't hit anything. The girl would have to go to Physical Therapy when it was taken off.

Sharon took the tomatoes and set one down in front of Emily, handing the girl a knife. It wasn't sharp as the one Sharon was planning on using, but it would do the trick.

"Cut away from you," she said quietly, before pressing a kiss to Emily's head.

* * *

The pasta – well, what was left of it, sat in the middle of Sharon's dining room table. Ricky had woken up from his drug induced nap and had stumbled into the dining table, ate a plate of food and crashed on the couch. He was asleep, face down, body spread out, lightly snoring. Emily had excused herself back to her room, under the pretense that she had to read.

Andy had taken Sharon out onto her patio – not that it was big – big enough for two people to curl up into a chair and watch the city. They had been sitting out there for nearly an hour, quietly conversing about the case, about the kids, his and hers, and just basking in the orchestra of the city.

"I have a meeting with Delk and Pope at the end of the week," Andy said. "I'm probably going to get fired."

His hand rested high up on her hip. She had a hand to his chest, which she used to swat his chest.

"You're not getting fired," she pressed. "Believe me, will you?"

He caught her lips in a kiss. It was gentle, it was kind, there was no ulterior motive behind it. He wanted to see her and he was determined to have her. If stolen kisses while her children were otherwise occupied was the only way, so be it. He was willing to cope.

He opened his mouth at her ear and breathed what he had realized a week ago in a hushed whisper. He was sure it was going to be drowned out by a horn of a car, the breaks of the bus, or a shout of someone on the street. Yet they were in quiet, total silence when the statement of love poured out of him.

Tense is what she became at the admission. She had her face against his neck, her lips at the underside of his jaw. She was curled into him, her body, her fingers, her everything – totally in him. She ached to be near him in the hospital. She ached to be near him at dinner, when they sat across from each other. She ached to have him in her bed, like they had been, but things were different now.

Things were so much different.

"Let me take you away from the city," he prompted. "Let me take you and the kids up north to a lake."

"A lake?"

He nodded. "There's a lake house up north. Not too hot and not too cold. The kid's would love it."

"They have doctor's appointments," she sighed. "You have your meeting. I can't just leave."

He wanted to protest, claim that she could just leave. They could all just leave. He'd be back for his meeting with Delk and Pope – she would be back for the kid's appointment's. It would be fine. She would make sure of it.

He gave her a look. It was one of defeat and hope.

"I have three days," he said. "Three days to do whatever I want and I want to take you to the cabin. You and your kids."

"Andy-" she sighed.

It was a lost cause, he realized. She didn't want to leave her kids, didn't want to leave LA in the event that something happened. Granted, yes, the cabin was away from civilization – there wasn't a hospital for a few miles. He gave into her – he always did. He nodded and ran a hand over the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry," she said, reaching out.

The moment her fingers touched his wrist, he pulled back. It was a mistake. He was pulling away from her and yet again he was acting like a child. He was being greedy. He wanted her.

"It's fine."

Dismissive. The tone was dismissive and he watched as she uncurled from him and sat in her own space.

He watched as she stood, took a deep breath and came around him to go inside. He took a moment before following her in. Despite her children being immobile and mute, they still had things around the place and she was picking them up. She tossed a throw blanket onto a chair. She kicked Ricky's shoes under the table, getting them out of the way.

"I want to go away with you," she said, standing still in the middle of her living room.

Andy was still at the sliding glass door, looking at her; watching her as she battled with the words in her head.

"It's not that I don't," she continued. " I do. But the kids – the kids are mine now. I've had so much time away from them that yes, my personal life, what it was is now on infinite hold."

"And I'm trying to give you a small chance at having both," Andy said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'm not asking you to run away with me, Sharon. I'm asking you to come with me up to a cabin where the kids don't need to hear the sounds of traffic or the drilling of machinery."

Sharon looked at him with sadness in her eyes. She shook her head and flexed her fingers.

"I can't," she said. "Truth be told, I shouldn't even _be_ in a relationship, of any kind with you."

He was expecting it. The sucker punch to the gut. The rest he knew would play out in her favor. It would involve him leaving, going home to his place, and that would be the end of whatever it was they had.

"I stepped away from the case because of my children," she said. "My children come before my job. I got swept up in the romantics of a close working relationship and it shouldn't have happened."

Andy took a step towards her, debated it. Three things could happen, he thought to himself, as he listed the three ideas in his head.

He could yell at her. Call her names. Threaten her job.

He could kiss her, make love to her on the floor of her living room, and consequences be damned.

He could leave.

As he stood toe to toe with her, the options weighing and fighting each other out, a fourth one came to mind. He seized it and went running with it.

He crushed his lips to hers. He buried his hands in her hair and tilted her head back for more. His lips went from hers to her neck, sucking on the point that made her knees weak. He knew he succeeded when her hands came to his hips, the nails of hers digging in to his side. On the moan, he stepped back, dropped his hands from her and turned away.

Picking up the keys from her entry table, where he always dumped his keys, he picked them up and swung her front door open. The keychain for his car dangled off his index finger as the door slammed behind him. The echo of it followed him down the hallway and onto her elevator.

He tried to have a relationship. It failed.

A trial and error, for which he had no plausible solution.

Except one.

* * *

 _Let me know what you think friends!_


	8. Pep Talk

_Hey guys! Thank you so much for the reviews and the follows! I really appreciate it._

 _We've got one more chapter after this and then an epilogue._

* * *

 _Chapter 7 - Pep Talk_

It was almost noon and Andy Flynn had been in and out of meetings since the early morning hours. His job was going to be given back to him and he had been doing paperwork in most, if not all of his meetings.

The last meeting he had been in had taken him across the street to City Hall, which is where he stood now, slightly slack jawed due to the sight of Sharon Raydor talking to Will Pope. The two of them looked cozy, warm and friendly. It was a little bothersome, but he couldn't help smile at the fact that she was annoyed.

Her fingers itched for the pockets she didn't have. She couldn't cross her arms because she would be dismissing the man who was their boss. The smile on Andy Flynn's face bloomed a little wider at the change in posture when she realized a pair of third party eyes were watching her. Sharon had made up some excuse and left Pope. The man went down the steps, without a second glance back.

Where he exited, had been the entrance for the City Hall employees or other personnel who worked in the building. Andy had made his way down the steps, meeting Sharon half way. He hovered above her, stopping two steps up. His hands were in his pockets, a smirk on his lips – it had been a little over a week since he last saw her.

The question of – Did Sharon break up with me? – rolled around in his head. It wasn't that she broke up with him. The words of 'We're over' or something akin to it never were muttered. The distance, the silence, the overwhelming sense of finished loomed greatly. For her it was a relief to see him, to see he was doing well and hadn't reverted back to the bottle.

There had been rumors swirling before that when Andy Flynn was broken up with he made friends at the bar. New or old, they became friends. It bothered her to know that she may be a reason for his downfall, but she knew him well enough to know he was past that. He had grown up from that time in his life.

Sharon tucked a strand of unruly hair and tucked it behind her ear. She was nervous and by the smug grin planted on his lips, looking down at her, he knew it.

"What are you doing here?" Andy asked. "Meeting with Pope?"

"I have a meeting," she shrugged. "You're coming back. Congratulations."

"Thanks," Andy nodded. "Elliot knows what he's doing apparently."

It was a dig at her. She knew that. She had left him when there was no real reason to. She couldn't do her job without being completely unbiased. She knew what he was like at home, knew that side of him – Elliot did not. He couldn't tell the other officers, 'Well at home when we're in bed – ' She, Sharon Raydor, on the other hand could and would if she had to. All in all it was unprofessional.

He knew that, but it didn't tamper his temper.

"That he does," Sharon nodded, agreeing with Andy.

She stepped up a step, coming to stand on his left. She was still shorter, but nonetheless closer.

"How are the kids?" He asked, stopping her step up.

"Fine," she nodded.

Surprise had washed over her face – he had seen it. He saw the relief of someone to talk to about them in her eyes. But the stance she held, the tight grip on her purse – she was defensive. Even with him.

"Good," he said, eyeing the street. "Well I should let you go."

Andy moved to take a step down and he managed to get a few steps down before he stopped. Sharon was still on her step, staring down at him.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone," Sharon said. "About us."

"Who on earth would I tell?" Andy questioned. "Why would I tell anyone?"

"Because you take pride in what you do," she said, the double entendre settling in for him. "You like to gloat when you've got what most men can't."

This would be the time where he'd grab the suspect by the upper arm and yank him out of the chair. Or this is where he'd smash the suspects face into the hood of the car. This would be the time where he'd get in the suspects face and read him, yell at him, their Miranda rights. But Sharon wasn't a suspect. Just a woman he slept with and happened to fall in love with.

"You made it very clear you can't do your job and be in a relationship with me," Andy growled at her. "So why on earth, would I go and tell the brass that I landed myself a soft place next to their Internal Affairs Ice Queen?"

"Because I'm about to do it for you," she snapped at him.

The words took him by surprise much like a slap to the face would have.

"What're you talkin' about?" Andy asked.

"My meeting," she said. " Is in there with the brass and was going to be with Pope."

"Why are you goin' into a meeting?"

"Delk is using you as a scapegoat," she said. "Jack, in an attempt to get back into my good graces, let it slip that one of the first cases he tried was with Delk at the helm. He was the investigative officer and there was no proof that the LAPD had done any wrong doing. So in order for him to go scott free and to make it seem like LAPD can do wrong, he's framing you. I think his conscious is weighing down and he knows what he did was wrong. Plus he doesn't like you. "

Andy scoffed. "Well I really don't like him right now."

Sharon reached out and cradled his face in her palm. "You are a good man, Andrew Flynn. You are good at your job. You are a good father to your children. They might ask me things that I've told you not to talk about."

"You can always lie," he shrugged. "Cops apparently _always_ lie."

"I don't," she said. "You know that."

"Well," he said, clearing his throat. "You should get to your meeting."

Sharon nodded and turned, walking up the steps. He gave her enough time to get to the flat surface before his voice broke the traffic filled orchestra of the street.

"If they ask you 'Was I a good boyfriend' what would you say?"

She turned at the initial shout of his question, letting it wash over her. She grinned, looked at her shoes for a moment and smiled up at him.

"The best."

He grinned.

"Lunch?" he inquired.

"Dinner," she said, nodding and turning back.

He had gone through six different bouquet of flowers before he was forced to settle. The woman at the flower market had created a bouquet for him, a mixture of baby's breath, daisies, and things that look like tulips but may not be. He couldn't tell. Andy Flynn was not one for flowers, nor did he know much about them. But he knew women liked them.

He had them in hand when he took the last couple of steps to Sharon's front door of her apartment. He could hear the voices of her kids on the other side and her chastising them for something. Whatever it was – he couldn't tell. The nerves in him almost had him walking away from the entire dinner, to just leave the flowers at the door, and to go home. But she knew where he lived and she knew how to get in.

So he knocked and he heard as the voices quieted. The door flung open and a flushed face met his and the green eyes of Sharon Raydor met his. Her cheeks were red, her hair lightly tousled, and she held in her hand one of her daughter's crutches.

"Hi," she said, breathlessly.

"Hi," he said back. He held up the flowers for her. "These are for you."

"Do you want to come in?" She asked quickly, opening the door wider for him to see what was behind her.

Both of her kids sat at the dining table. Her son had a handful of something that resembled saucy pasta ready to be flung towards Emily who already had a pile of it in front of her. The look in her eye, Andy had seen in her mother – the girl was going to get her brother back and she was going to get him good.

"Are they starting world war three?" Andy quietly whispered to Sharon.

"They think they are," she remarked. "And they think that I don't know about it."

Both kids, with arms raised, attack positions ready, were immediately brought down by the eloquent raise of their mother's challenging brow. It had been a short time since they had come to stay with Sharon and yet, she had melted into the roll of Mom and a full time care taker very easily. Andy figured he did the same when his kids were around.

"Would you like some pasta?" Sharon asked, taking the bowl of it from the table. "Or whatever is left of it?"

"I'm good," he said, shaking his head in denial.

They were supposed to go out. The realization clicked in her mind and she spun on her heel. The surprise melted into a small, apologetic smile.

With a careless shrug, Andy paid no mind to it. He simply shucked off his jacket, hung it up on one of the backs of the chairs, and rolled up his sleeves. To say the least, Andy Flynn missed Sharon Raydor. This entire situation was about to come to a close, his relationship with her would go from professional to personal, or so he hoped. If she was at all apprehensive about having both – a personal and professional life – he was determined to show her that it was possible.

"So Ricky," Sharon heard Andy say as he sat down in a chair next to the boy.

Sharon rolled up her own sleeves and dripped some soap on her dishes. She flipped the lever on her sink and Andy's voice mixed in with the water. It wasn't her ideal date, but it would have to do.

"So I'll see you tomorrow, then?" Andy asked as he slipped himself back into his jacket on the other side of her door in the hallway.

"I'll be there," she said, her voice full of promise. "You can't let Elliot get to you. He'll play the good cop and then play the bad cop."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"Andy," Sharon sighed, a hand on her hip, a hand in her hair. "What are we doing?"

"What do you mean?"

She signaled between the two of them. Suddenly the anxiety had filled her at a surprising momentum. Suddenly she wondered if she could have a relationship with the man in front of her. The man who just blew off dinner to which he had a reservation for – she had heard him cancelling it when he excused himself to the bathroom – and sat with her children until they excused themselves to bed.

Instead of overstaying his welcome, which Sharon was fully expecting him to and was going to revel in his extended stay, he announced he was going home. She wasn't disappointed. She was anxious. Anxious that this was it between them. That he was going to officially break up with her. The best boy friend she had since Jack – ever really, and that was including Jack – she was going to let walk away.

"You're part of IA," he shrugged. "I'm part of Robbery Homicide. Or at least I will when this whole thing is over."

"What do you mean?"

"They wanted me to start at the bottom, but Elliot pulled some strings, made some people some promises and as soon as I'm cleared, god willing, I'll be back in Robbery Homicide."

"That's what you wanted right?"

Andy shrugged. "More or less."

Sharon hummed and nodded.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then," Andy said, nodding his head towards the elevators down the hall. "Have a good night."

She let him go, she let him get as far as the elevator and she racked her brain. What tomorrow would bring she did not know. She was going to let the man who was a complete opposite of her ex husband and yet similar, walk away.

"Andy," she called out.

Like a bad romantic movie, she lunged at him and hoped he'd catch her. He did, both arms around her waist and her arms came around his neck. She wasn't wearing shoes so the catch was easier than if she was. He kissed her as he lowered her to the ground, his hand went from her hip to her hair to tilt her back at an angle.

He couldn't get enough of her. She was intoxicating and she was a drug to his system. Worse than alcohol – he couldn't get enough.

"Stop," he said, his voice cracking as he stepped back at the ding of the elevator.

Breathless, she stepped back. Her eyes were gleaming.

"Not forever," he promised. "Just until tomorrow. Then we'll talk."

"Okay," she said, her voice still catching. "Okay."

He pressed one last, chaste kiss to her lips before he recalled the elevator. He gave her his back for a brief moment, before he stepped on the elevator. He turned and right before the doors closed he gave her something to remember him by.

She was smiling the entire way back into her apartment. She knew why he did it. She knew why he told her then and not earlier or later. Tomorrow could be their last day together as a couple. They'd go into a working relationship – if they even had one anymore.

Tomorrow was going to be a new day. A new day where Sharon Raydor knew how Andy Flynn felt about her.

* * *

 _Let me know what you guys think!_


	9. Honor

_Thank you guys so much for reading this story. The only chapter left is the Epilogue, so tune in next week for that!_

 _Let me know what you guys think!_

* * *

 _Chapter 8 - Honor_

" _Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you god?"_

" _I do."_

Reporters, like vultures circling their prey, were waiting for Andy Flynn outside of the LAPD Headquarters. Light bulbs flashing, when he stepped out of the building, reporters yelling at the top of their lungs, a battle amongst them, for his comment on the proceedings. They wanted his comment on the relationship with Sharon Raydor. It was brought out first thing in the morning when Gavin asked him about it. He couldn't lie. He refused to lie. So he told the truth.

" _Yes."_

" _How long as this relationship been going on?"_

" _A few months."_

" _Before or after she was assigned to your case?"_

A car had been called, courtesy of Baker, and was waiting for him to take him away from the building. He wanted to go home. He wanted to shower, get out of the suffocating suit. He wanted to get out of the limelight for a few days, let it die down and just get back to normal life. If the media and real life would ever let him have a normal life again.

The days leading up to the meeting had been stormy. Meetings after meetings. Reports after reports. Phone calls and interviews - one thing after another seemed to twist into a tornado. He didn't crawl into bed some nights until two or three in the morning. It didn't help that when he did crawl into bed, it was an empty one.

" _What can you tell us about the event in question?"_

" _I received a call. I went to the sight. The suspect had a gun. We both fired."_

" _So you admit to brandishing your weapon?"_

" _I do."_

The deal Andy made at the beginning of the week was that he was going to requalify in what he needed to. He had to prove to the board that he was qualified to come back to work. Monday night was spent at the shooting range, requalifying with a service weapon. The groupings were perfect. A triangle in the chest.

The reporters continued to yell. Asking about the shooting. Asking about the victim's family. Would he do it again? Would he do anything different?

" _Your file is filled with reports from Internal Affairs. Could it be said that you have a relationship with them, other than your personal one with your previous representation?"_

" _I guess you can say that, yeah."_

" _And could it also be said that Internal Affairs would be doing their job if they had you investigated to the fullest."_

" _Yes it could."_

" _So what makes you different?"_

"Sir, wait here." A uniformed officer told Andy, placing a hand to his chest.

Gavin nearly knocked into him. A question faded on his lips when the flashes of red and white came flickering up to the building.

Sirens sounded. An ambulance pulled up. The reporters stopped shouting at Andy, the light bulbs stopped flashing as they all turned to see the EMT's jump out of the vehicle and make a beeline for the doors leading into the PAB.

Andy turned to Gavin, whose phone began to ring. Without a second though the attorney answered.

"Baker," he snapped into his phone. "Got it."

Ending the call, Gavin held the phone in his hand and took Andy by the elbow. He pulled him back into the crowd of reporters. It was quiet amongst the sharks with cameras. They were all trying to figure out what had happened.

"We've got to go back."

" _You know Tommy Delk, correct?"_

" _Yes, I do."_

" _What is the nature of your relationship with Chief Deck?"_

" _He's my superior officer."_

" _Were you ever in his direct command?"_

" _Yes."_

" _How did that go?"_

" _It went fine."_

Andy was surprised to see Sharon at the end of the main hallway. Her phone pressed to her ear, hanging up when her eyes settled on them. She was waving one of the last EMT's through the doorway that led to the stairs. The elevators were most likely filled with the spectators and press who hadn't made it down to the street yet.

He took hold of Sharon's elbow as he and Baker came to a stand still in front of her. She had tears in her eyes and for once in his life, Andy couldn't figure out why. Whatever it was worried her, which in turn made his stomach knot. Maybe it was the kids again. Or Jack. God forbid Jack got out of prison.

"What happened?" Andy asked.

"It's Delk."

" _Are you aware of the dealings that go behind closed doors at the LAPD, Mr. Flynn?"_

" _What do you mean by dealings?"_

" _Let me try again. Have you ever bribed a fellow officer to do something for you to get you out of a sticky situation?"_

" _No."_

" _Not once? Not when you decided to go to the bar instead of home one night. Or maybe you bribed someone in ballistics to have you at the top of the list instead of at the bottom?"_

" _No. That's not – I have no reason to do that. Sure, our policies get annoying from time to times and sure shortcutting them seems like a good idea, but in the long run I'd rather keep my job if it's all the same to you."_

It was one floor up that Andy, Sharon and Baker had met the press and other officers who had gotten the memo about Delk. The common question that was flying was, 'What happened?'. No one knew. No one had answers. Everyone in that stairwell were trying to get to the floor.

Once they fell in line with the swarm of people Andy took ahold of Sharon's hand and didn't let go. Not even as she fell behind him a step. He held onto her. There was nothing to hide and Sharon didn't pull her hand back. In fact she tightened her grip.

" _Mr. Flynn, on paper you are a liability to the LAPD. Are you aware of that?"_

" _It would not be surprising."_

" _Are you aware that of the allegations that have brought you here?"_

" _I am."_

" _Are you aware that it is Chief Delk who is alleging them?"_

" _I am."_

" _Can you say, right now, that what you are being alleged, is true?"_

" _I can not, no."_

" _Why is that?"_

" _Because what has been submitted as evidence has been tampered with."_

The hallways were full of people. It was hard to see over the taller bodies of the other officers. The reporters with camera's had them above their heads, making it harder to see over their heads. Andy looked to Sharon and nodded to the small office behind the EMT's work circle.

She stopped and shook her head. They weren't the one's to pry. They weren't the ones to get more information. Whatever it was, they'd get.

"What do you think happened?" Sharon asked.

"Karma, I hope." Andy remarked coolly.

" _Mr. Flynn, do you know who I am?"_

" _Yes."_

" _And do you know who she is?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Who are we?"_

" _You are Gavin Baker, my attorney. And she is Michelle Burke opposing counsel."_

" _Mr. Flynn, you've said that you fired your weapon at the scene. Have you ever fired your weapon before?"_

" _Only when I needed to."_

" _Was there a need to fire your weapon at the event in question?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Why?"_

" _He pulled a gun on me, I fired before he had a chance to shoot me or someone else."_

" _Was there someone else?"_

Andy watched from the sidelines as the reporters began to follow the stretcher. Like the other people who were standing on their toes to get a look, he couldn't make anything out. He couldn't see who they were taking out. Sharon was looking at her phone, her fingers typing away with her thumbs, hitting send just as the EMT's cleared the hallway.

The reporters got on their phones, started calling their outlets and Andy heard bits and pieces. None of it sat well with him.

"What are we supposed to do now?"

"Wait."

"I'm tired of waiting."

" _Chief Delk. Welcome."_

" _Thank you."_

" _How long have you known Andy Flynn?"_

" _About six or seven years now."_

" _And has he once given you the feeling that he did not want to be part of the LAPD?"_

" _No, I can't say he has."_

"The board might call a mandatory meeting." Sharon told Andy. "They might overturn their initial findings."

"What does that do if their –" Andy stopped. "That won't make them look good."

"Neither does their Chief of Police openly admitting to tampering evidence."

"I just want to go home."

"I know," Sharon said, smoothing her hand down his front. "I know."

" _So, why do you think he chose to act out this way, now?"_

" _I can't say, to be honest."_

" _What can you say? Honestly?"_

" _Honestly? Andy Flynn has a history of anger management classes. He has a history of being drunk on the job. He has a history of being late the morning after his late night benders. What he did the night in question does not surprise me at all."_

" _Why is that?"_

" _Because he's a liability."_

The reporters had long since filled out of the room. It was just Andy and Sharon. Gavin had gone down the hall in search of the Ethics Board and Michelle Burke. The pair of them had slid to the floor, their backs against the wall.

They were a sight. Legs stretched out in front, hands clasped in their laps, heads tilted back; nerves and worry both knotted in their stomachs. Andy did what he could to maintain self control. He wanted to reach over and take her hand again.

"I could really go for a drink right now." Andy commented.

Sharon laughed and patted his leg. In all honesty, she wanted one too. The sad part was, it was in the middle of lunch time.

" _Chief Delk, who is Samantha Marks?"_

" _I believe she is the victim in this case."_

" _And who is Elijah Canon?"_

" _I believe the suspect."_

" _You believe or you know, Chief?"_

" _I get lots of names brought to my desk for different things, counselor. I'm not one hundred percent on every name for every case."_

" _The name Elijah Canon doesn't seem familiar to you?"_

" _I don't know. Should it?"_

"We should get out of town for a few days," Sharon suggested. "Go up North. Go to the beach."

"Now she wants to go somewhere," Andy chided.

Sharon nudged him with her elbow and he laughed. It was all in good fun.

"I wanted to before but – "

"It wasn't out in the open. I get it."

Emily and Ricky were better behaving themselves. Emily had more movement now with her crutches. She had gotten used to them. The doctor could give her a soft cast so she could put small amounts of pressure on her foot.

A small cabin, maybe a bed and breakfast.

It would be nice.

" _Elijah Canon was being investigated for armed robbery and possible assault about three years ago. The investigating officer was you, Chief."_

" _Like I said, I don't remember every name of every case."_

" _I would remember the name of the family who paid me off to get their son out of the system."_

" _Are you insinuating I was bought off?"_

" _I'm not insinuating anything, Chief. I've got it plain as day on paper."_

Gavin appeared at the end of the hall. Andy quickly stood and helped Sharon get to her feet. Around the corner came Michelle and Pope.

Pope shook both of the attorney's hands and noticed the pair at the other end of the hallway. His eyes danced from Sharon and then go Flynn. Pope gave the other man a singular nod before turning around and disappearing back around the corner.

Andy looked to Sharon who had hope in her eyes. That's what he needed. Hope.

 _"Chief, do you have a relationship with the Canon family?"_

 _"I've already told you I don't-"_

 _"Forgive me, Chief. Did the Canon family ever pay you to keep their son out of the system?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Remember Chief, you are under oath."_

 _"_ What do you think is going on?"

"I don't know."

The duo watched as Gavin shook Michelle's hand once more. Michelle had gone right to the elevators unlike Gavin, who had made his way towards Sharon and Andy.

 _"Chief, did you know that Mr. Canon's DNA had come back positive for the rape case that you were in charge of?"_

 _"I know it now."_

 _"But you didn't know it then?"_

 _"The case you are talking about - a woman was raped, yes. Was I paid off to keep the man off the streets? No."_

 _"But did you know his DNA came back positive."_

"You can go home now."

"Why did we need to come up here?"

"Walk with me."

 _"Chief I'm just trying to understand why I have documentation here that says you were in charge of the investigation, DNA match was positive and yet the man who should have been behind bars ended up on a slab at the county morgue two years later."_

" _Things get lost. People misfile things. It's not my fault the DNA test didn't show up until after the man was allowed to walk scott free."_

" _So you knew he was released prematurely."_

" _Aren't they all?"_

Andy had to wrap the information around in his head and quickly as he stepped off the elevator on the first floor. Sharon was already talking to Baker about what it meant for Andy and his case. If there even was a case still. Or at all.

He was in the lobby by the time someone, probably Sharon got his attention. She had her hand extended to him. He knew he had to man up and get it together before he stepped out into the still waiting sea of press.

" _Chief, all I'm asking is it true or false that you have a dislike for my client?"_

" _That is – on paper he is a liability to the force."_

" _That wasn't an answer to my question, Chief. Do you or do you not like my client?"_

" _He has made inappropriate choices as an officer."_

" _That's not the answer to my question. Please, Chief, so we all can get to lunch. Do you or do you not like my client?"_

" _What do you want me to say counselor? That your client is a stand up cop and that his drunken history hasn't demolished the precedence that we try to uphold here? Serve and protect. He can't serve or protect a damn soul when he's stumblin' in here drunk off his ass. And he sure as hell can't protect himself even if he's sober. He made sure of that."_

" _Chief Delk, did you set my client up."_

" _Did I set – HA – your client set himself up, counselor. He set himself up. He walked into a hot crime scene and had no clue."_

" _Why is that?"_

" _Because I sent him into it."_

" _Full well knowing what he was about to walk into and the likelihood of life loss."_

" _Not like anyone would have missed him."_

He wove his fingers in between Sharon's. She pressed herself against him.

" _Mr. Flynn. It is with deepest regret that we had to insult your record as a police officer."_

"Have a good day Flynn."

"Thanks, McHale."

" _We, the Board, have reached a decision."_

Sharon's phone rang from deep in her purse. She stopped right outside the double doors that led to the building. Reporters began to yell. Some were looking at their phones too.

" _In the case of the LAPD vs. Andy Flynn, we are ruling that Mr Flynn be granted to return to active duty."_

"Delk's dead." Sharon said quietly.

"What?"

"Heart attack. He's gone."

The reporters began to yell. Shouting Andy's name. Sharon's name. He took her hand and made his way through the crowd towards the parking structure.

He could go back to work.

" _Effectively immediately."_

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! Let me know what you guys think!_


	10. Epilogue

Thank you to everyone who has read this story! Thank you to everyone who has left a review on this story! I truly appreciate it!

* * *

 _Epilogue: Stars and Stripes_

It took a long time to understand what proper breathing meant. A deep breath on the left, exhale on the right and with every step, the pattern must continue. The chest heaves, the lungs tighten when there is not enough air, which speeds up the heart. The mind thinks there is something wrong with the body and after sometime, an emergency shutdown will take place. The body collapses.

That's what Andy Flynn tells his class of incoming police officers when he teaches at the Academy. The young kids think they can run, that they know how, but when the shoes hit the pavement, or the dirt, and they're going to Flynn's time and Flynn's rhythm, they know nothing. It's an interesting wakeup call for them, when they're bent over, trying to suck as much air into their lungs as possible, choking on what they can get.

He was leading the group, going at a reasonable pace through the Griffith Park hills. Uneven terrain, stairs, and then a full speed sprint downhill. They were all forced to keep up. Some could, some didn't, but those who wanted to quit? That option was not allowed.

At the base of the mountain, where they all had started, the new class began to fill in their formation. Four rows of seven - a mixture of men and women - one team. They had to understand that. He wasn't going to allow goof off's in the middle of the night, giggling and shouting like girls. It's why, at a quarter to six in the morning, when the sun was barely starting to rise, they were out there with their transport vans.

"What we did here, was just a warm up!" Andy shouted, weaving his way in between the new officers. "The push ups, the sit-ups, the run, that was just to get your body flowing."

The officers were sweating, they were panting, but what he was about to do - well that was going to test them to the fullest.

"What we are going to do next is take a run back home!" Flynn said, expecting a groan from the group. "It's a six and a half mile run."

They're required to finish a mile in eight minutes for their endurance run. He's allowing ten a mile. Not everyone is going to be able to finish and that'll be fine. He doesn't want and or need everyone to finish. He just needs to get them to try.

"What you don't know if you've already done a mile and a half of it," he said. "In under your ten minute requirement."

He saw the flex of eyebrows full of surprise. They were impressed with themselves. So far so good.

"I'll be taking the lead," Flynn said. "Whoever passes me will keep up the pace. The vans will be following behind. Those of you who can't continue, put your arm in the air, signal your numbers, and they'll pick you up."

"We won't get in trouble for it sir?"

Andy turned partially on his heel and looked at the Officer. He could rile them up a bit, get them to suffer, but he wasn't sure _he_ could run the five mile anymore either.

"I'll make you this bet," Flynn said. "If I have to throw my number in the air, we all will get in the van. If I don't, you still need to run."

The class said nothing, indicating they were content with that.

"Good," he said, nodding. "Let's go."

With that he took off, a slow pace, a slow jog. He wasn't going to start full sprint. He'd lose half of his class by the next light, which wasn't until after the turn. It wasn't going to be until they got closer, that he would speed things up.

It wasn't too warm yet, the sun was just starting to peak, and the traffic was light. No one was really on the road yet, which made it easier for him to jump off the path and into the street, to push his people. The vans sure enough were following behind and the officers were making their way.

It was a mile in that he heard the toot of a horn, forcing him to turn. He nodded and waved. A van drove up in front of them, leading the pack. It didn't matter _their_ speed, because he could still run ahead of it. He was going to let it go for another mile and get a little faster.

He had lost three of his people by the beginning of the third mile. One had stepped wrong and rolled an ankle. Another apparently forgot how to breathe while running and nearly collapsed. The third had muscle burn – probably dehydration. Nevertheless, he was going to push them later, get the team to push them, because he was going to do this again one day and they were _all_ going to make it.

"Come on Chief," he heard at the turn to go onto the dirt path that would lead them into the Academy. "Stars and Stripes, remember?"

With that the kid took off, forcing Andy to go faster, forcing the class to go faster. The kid was now setting the pace and apparently it was a full speed sprint. Andy let the class take off after him. The van pulled up to a slow crawl next to him, the driver window rolling down.

"Need a lift, sir?"

"I can make my way up the hill," Andy said, turning down the lift.

While he did slow down considerably, and the class was up and over the hill, he still jogged the rest of the way.

As he made his way to them, the squads lined up just like at the base of the hill, chest heaving, brows wet with exertion, something filled Andy Flynn. Pride, perhaps. He just needed to get these kids to graduation.

* * *

The day had come and Andy Flynn was tinkering with his medals on his chest when he felt a warm hand pressed to his back. He turned, half smiling at the feel and the presence of it's owner. Sharon Raydor – back at PAB – for the graduation.

Dressed not in her uniform, but her usual office where, she stood tall. It was over – the class of his had been welcomed into the brotherhood of the LAPD – and it was all over. Family and friends came to witness the event. Cheering from the families, high fives from the officers – they had finally did it. They were able to go home and be proud of what they accomplished.

"You have some pretty good looking police officers up there, Lieutenant," she commented.

"Thank you Ma'am," Andy said with a tip of his hat.

She smiled up at him, an invitation with the kids for lunch on her lips. It died when an officer came over to them and clapped Andy on the back.

"Chief," the kid said, smiling at him. "Thanks for everything, sir."

"Rusty," Andy said, taking the kids hand and shaking it.

Rusty nods to Sharon who is standing to Andy's left. A bag on her shoulder, an amused smile on her lips, she looks on.

"Hi ma'am," he said, offering his hand to her.

Andy Flynn had put his life on the line one too many times. He had put her life endanger one too many times. Life wasn't meant to be lived with a series of what-if's. What if he hadn't married her? What if he hadn't met her? What if he stopped drinking, hadn't met her, and had a different job? He'd be an entirely different person. But she made it all better.

Andy had married Sharon on a Sunday up in the Hollywood Hills in the backyard of a house he bought her. Her kids were there, his kids were there, a few family friends and a priest. They didn't need a large party, or a large church – they just needed to be there and he was tired of wondering if he'd ever make it there.

"Hello Mr. Beck," she said shaking his hand in return.

"A few of us are going up to the cantina up the street," Beck told them. "You should join us Chief."

"I'm actually going to go have lunch with my family, Beck," Flynn told him. "You guys should go. Get it out of your system."

"Yes sir," Beck nodded.

The boy made a move to walk away, but stopped, turning on his heel as he was taught, and raised his arm in a salute. Out of respect, Andy snapped to the same position and raised his hand as well. Beck dropped it first, then Flynn, and both men had smiles on their face.

"Serve and Protect." Flynn said.

"Stars and Stripes, yes sir," Beck nodded.

With Beck gone, Sharon curled her arm into the crook of Andy's elbow. A smile on her face as the pair watched Rusty walk away and a group of them start walking down the street. She shook her head. Once upon a time they were like that. Eager, young, ambitious. The tales of the job had caught up with them.

"So," she started. "Chief, huh?"

"Stars for Chief," Andy pointed out, nudging her with a hip. "Stripes for Captain's. You can't have one without the other. Same with a teammate. You can have a team without people watching your back and taking care of you."

"Stars and Stripes," she said, smiling. "Serve and Protect."

"Exactly," he said, curling an arm around her shoulders. "Now where are we going for lunch? I'm starving."

* * *

It was later on in the evening, long after dinner, long after the graduation ceremony, that Andy Flynn finally had his feet up on the living room table, reading his paper. Sharon was somewhere in the kitchen, putting the leftovers of dinner away. Soon she'd start in on the pile of dishes she made for herself.

Emily and Ricky had gone upstairs for the evening. Emily back from her international study abroad program for dance. Ricky had come home for a week or so to go to some think tank about building computers. Sharon took pride in cleaning the place up, making it look nice for the next day.

Andy checked the watch on his wrist. Any minute the front door would open, a bundle of energy would be flying through, and jabbering on about the events of the day. Sharon would stop whatever it was that she was in the middle of to listen. Or she'd have the conversation convene in the kitchen.

As soon as the big hand hit the hour, the front door opened. A thud of a bag sounded from the front door, keys jingling, and click of heels against the front entryway. Andy grinned at his wife, who was standing at the edge of the couch, pride beaming off of her face.

"Long day?"

The boy who was trudging himself through the room looked up. The blue eyes, the blonde hair, everything was void of emotion.

"I'm going to be sick," the boy said, forcing a barked laugh out of Andy.

"The cantina wasn't all what you thought it would be?" Andy asked, tilting his head back to look at Rusty.

"You could have warned me it sucked," he groaned. "The alcohol was cheap."

"Which is why you paid, what, twenty bucks for all of it?"

Rusty nodded. He was going to be hung over in the morning. It was going to be awful.

"So lesson learned?" Sharon questioned.

Rusty nodded. "I'm going to go change."

"Hang that up, Mr. Beck," Sharon said as her boy walked up the stairs, towards his room.

"Yes Mom!" They heard faintly as he yelled it down the hallway.

Sharon found Rusty through a friend at the Department of Child Services. He had been in LAPD custody a few times - a time for soliciting, another for being on private property, and what put him into emergency care was a witness to a possible murder. Didn't help either that he was almost killed in the process. So Sharon took him in and he was forced to spend the majority of his time with her at work anyway. It wasn't a surprise really that he decided to become a cop.

Nothing in life was considered easy. It always came with repercussions. Either good or bad they always came.

It was nearing the middle of the night when the phone rang. Sharon's phone to be exact. Which she had left downstairs charging. It sounded loudly in the empty house only to be cut off after the third ring. As Sharon sighed back into her pillow, expecting the soft knock that was about to come, she listened to Andy slowly wake.

If she was up, he was up. That was how it always went.

The soft knock came, the door creaked open and a soft, "Mom" came from the doorway.

Sharon was out of bed and to the door before Andy could wake up anymore. He was exhausted. Up every morning at three, to be at the Academy by four, to start the day at 5 was grueling. She did not miss it for a minute.

"Who is it?"

"Provenza," Rusty smirked. "Someone from dispatch called in a 'Six King' and woke up Provenza."

"So he's calling me?" she groaned.

She took the phone and disappeared down the hallway. Andy appeared in the doorway a second later, his body weary.

"Who was it?"

"Provenza," Rusty said.

Andy nodded and made his way down the hallway, to start up the coffee. If Provenza was calling, then it meant that Sharon was going to have to go into work.

"Hey Chief," Rusty called out. "What's a Six King?"

Andy grinned and shook his head. "You don't know by now?"

The coffee got made. Sharon was changed. Andy collapsed into her car, in the passenger seat. Then the call came in.

" _Six King, we have a ten-seven-one_."

Sharon looked over at Andy.

"You up for this?"

"Are you going to frame me?"

Sharon shook her head.

"Alright, let's go." Andy said.

Major Crimes with a possible suicide attempt.

The day was only just beginning.

* * *

 _Happy Major Crimes Monday! Let me know what you guys think!_

 _Stay Tuned for a new story coming your way soon!_


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